/°- 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  CLOOMBER. 


The  Mystery 
of  Cloomber 

By    A.    CONAN    DOYLE 

Author  of 

"Sherlock  Holmes,"     "Micah  Clarke," 

"The  White  Company,"    "The  Refugees," 

etc.,  etc. 


R.     F.    FENNO     &     COMPANY 
1 8  East  Seventeenth  St.       New  York 


COPYRIGHT,   DS95 
&  &  FENNO  &  COMP&MtJ 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 
I.  The  Hegira  of  the  Wests  from  Edin- 
burgh       7 

II.  Of  the  Strange  Manner  in  which  a 

Tenant  came  to  Cloomber    .        .     13 

III.  Of  our   Further   Acquaintance  with 

Major-General  J.  B.  Heatherstone    22 

IV.  Of  a  Young  Man   with  a  Grey  Head     34 
V.  How  four  of  us  came  to  be  under  the 

Shadow  of  Cloomber     .        .        .    43 
VI.  How  I  came  to  be  Enlisted  as  One  of 

the  Garrison  of  Cloomber    .        .     58 
VII.  Of  Corporal    Rufus  Smith   and   his 

Coming  to  Cloomber      .        .        .66 
VIII.  Statement  of  Israel  Stakes.         •        .    83 
IX.  Narrative  of  John  Easterling,  F.  R.  C.  P. 

Edin IOO 

X.  Of  the  Letter  which  came  from  the 

Hall 113 

[51 


Chapter  Pago 

XL  Of  the  Casting  Away  of  the  Bark 

"  Belinda" 117 

XII.  Of  the  Three  Foreign  Men  upon  the 

Coast 139 

XIII.  In  which  I  see  that  which  has  been 

seen  by  few 150 

XIV.  Of    the  Visitor  who  ran   down   the 

road  in  the  Night-time.  176 

XV.  The    Day-book    of     John     Berthier 

Heatherstone.        ....  196 

XVI.  At  the  Hole  of  Cree     .        .        .        .223 

Addendum    ....*.  241 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  CLOOMBER. 


CHAPTER  t. 

THE  HEGIRA  OF  THE  WESTS  FROM  EDINBURGH. 

I,  JAMES  FOTHERGILL  WEST,  student  of  law  in 
the  University  of  St.  Andrews,  have  endeavored 
in  the  ensuing  pages  to  lay  my  statement  before 
the  public  in  a  concise  and  business-like  fash- 
ion. It  is  not  my  wish  to  achieve  literary  sue- 
cess ;  nor  have  I  any  desire  by  the  graces  of  my 
style,  or  by  the  artistic  ordering  of  my  incidents, 
to  throw  a  deeper  shadow  over  the  strange  pas- 
sages of  which  I  shall  have  to  speak.  My  high, 
est  ambition  is  that  those  who  know  something 
of  the  matter  should,  after  reading  my  account, 
be  able  to  conscientiously  endorse  it  without 
finding  a  single  paragraph  in  which  I  have  either 
added  to  or  detracted  from  the  truth.  Should  I 


8 

attain  this  result,  I  shall  rest  amply  satisfied 
with  the  outcome  of  my  first,  and  probably  my 
last,  venture  in  literature. 

It  was  my  intention  to  write  out  the  sequence 
of  events  in  due  order,  depending   upon  trust- 
worthy  hearsay   when   I     was   describing   that 
which  was  beyond  my  own  personal  knowledge. 
I  have  now,  however,  through  the  kind  co-oper- 
ation of  friends,  hit  upon  a  plan  which  promises 
to  be  less  onerous  to  me  and  more  satisfactory 
to  the  reader.     This  is  nothing  less  than  to  make 
use  of  the  various  manuscripts  which  I  have  by 
me  bearing    upon   the   subject,  and   to    add   to 
them   first-hand  evidence   contributed  by  those 
who   had   the    best   opportunities    of    knowing 
Major-General  J.  B.  Heatherstone.  In  pursuance 
of  this  design  I  shall  lay  before  the  public  the 
testimony  of  Israel  Stakes,  formerly    coachman 
at  Cloomber   Hall,  and  of  John  Easterling,  F.  R. 
C.  P.  Edin.,  now  practising  at  Stranraer,  in  Wig. 
townshire.     To   these    I   shall    add   a    verbatim 
account  extracted    from  the  journal  of  the  late 
John  Berthier  Heatherstone,  of  the  events  which 
occurred  in  the  Thul  Valley  in  the  autumn  of 
•41,  towards  the  end  of  the  first  Afghan  war, 
with  a  description  of  the  skirmish  in  the  Terada 
defile,  and  of  the  death  of  the  man  Ghoolab 


Shah.  To  myself  I  reserve  the  duty  of  filling  up 
all  the  gaps  and  chinks  which  may  be  left  in  the 
narrative.  By  this  arrangement  I  have  sunk 
from  the  position  of  an  author  to  that  of  a  com- 
piler, but  on  the  other  hand  my  work  has  ceased 
to  be  a  story  and  has  expanded  into  a  series  of 
affidavits! 

My  father,  John  Hunter  West,  was  a  well- 
known  Oriental  and  Sanscrit  scholar,  and  his 
name  is  still  of  weight  with  those  who  are  inter- 
ested in  such  matters.  He  it  was  who  first  after 
Sir  William  Jones  called  attention  to  the  great 
value  of  early  Persian  literature,  and  his  transla- 
tions both  from  Hafizand  from  Ferideddin  Atar 
have  earned  the  warmest  commendations  from 
the  Baron  Von  Hammer-Purgstall,  of  Vienna, 
and  other  distinguished  Continental  critics.  In 
the  issue  of  the  Orientalisches  Scienz-blatt  for  Jan- 
uary, 1861,  he  is  described  as  "  Der  beruhmte 
und  sehr  gelehrnte  Hunter  West  von  Edin- 
burgh " — a  passage  which  I  well  remember  that 
he  cut  out  and  stowed  away,  with  a  pardonable 
vanity,  among  the  most  revered  family  archives. 

He  had  been  brought  up  to  be  a  solicitor,  or 
Writer  to  the  Signet,  as  it  is  termed  in  Scotland, 
but  his  learned  hobby  absorbed  so  much  of  his 
time  that  he  had  little  to  devote  to  the  pursuit  of 


xo 

his  profession.  When  his  clients  were  seeking 
him  at  his  chambers  in  George  Street  he  was 
buried  in  the  recesses  of  the  Advocates'  Library, 
or  poring  over  some  mouldy  manuscript  at  the 
Philosophical  Institution,  with  his  brain  more 
exercised  over  the  code  which  Menu  pro- 
pounded six  hundred  years  before  the  birth  of 
Christ  than  over  the  knotty  problems  of  Scottish 
law  in  the  nineteenth  century. 

Hence  it  can  hardly  be  wondered  at  that  as 
his  learning  accumulated  his  practise  dissolved, 
until  at  the  very  moment  when  he  had  attained 
the  zenith  of  his  celebrity  he  had  also  reached 
the  nadir  of  his  fortunes.  There  being  no  chair 
of  Sanscrit  in  any  of  his  native  universities,  and 
no  demand  anywhere  for  the  only  mental  wares 
he  had  to  dispose  of,  we  should  have  been  forced 
to  retire  into  genteel  poverty,  consoling  our- 
selves with  the  aphorisms  and  precepts  of  Fir,, 
dousi,  Omar  Chiam,  and  other  of  his  Eastern 
favorites,  had  it  not  been  for  the  unexpected 
kindness  and  liberality  of  his  half-brother,  Wil- 
liam Farintosh,  the  Laird  of  Branksome  in  Wig. 
townshire. 

This  William  Farintosh  was  the  proprietor  of 
a  landed  estate  the  acreage  of  which  bore,  unfor- 
tunately, a  most  disproportional  relation  to  its 


II 

value,  for  it  formed  the  bleakest  and  most  bar. 
ren  tract  of  land  in  the  whole  of  a  bleak  and 
barren  shire.  As  a  bachelor,  however,  his  ex- 
penses had  been  small,  and  he  had  contrived 
from  the  rents  ol  his  scattered  cottages,  and  the 
sale  of  the  Galloway  nags,  which  he  bred  upon 
the  moors,  not  only  to  live  as  a  laird  should,  but 
to  put  by  a  considerable  sum  in  the  bank. 

We  had  heard  little  from  our  kinsman  during 
the  days  of  our  comparative  prosperity  ;  but  just 
as  we  were  at  our  wits*  end,  there  came  a  letter 
like  a  ministering  angel,  giving  us  assurance  of 
sympathy  and  succor.  In  it  the  Laird  of  Brank. 
some  told  us  that  one  of  his  lungs  had  been 
growing  weaker  for  some  time,  and  that  Dr. 
Easterling,  of  Stranraer,  had  strongly  advised 
him  to  spend  the  few  years  which  were  left  to 
him  in  some  more  genial  climate.  He  had  de- 
termined, therefore,  to  set  out  for  the  South  of 
Italy,  and  he  begged  that  we  should  take  up  our 
residence  at  Branksome  in  his  absence,  and  that 
my  father  should  act  as  his  land  steward  and 
agent  at  a  salary  which  placed  us  above  all  fear 
of  want. 

Our  mother  had  been  dead  for  some  years,  so 
that  there  were  only  myself,  my  father,  and  my 
sister  Esther  to  consult ;  and  it  may  readily  be 


12 

imagined  that  it  did  not  take  us  long  to  decide 
upon  the  acceptance  of  the  laird's  generous  offer. 
My  father  started  for  Wigtown  that  very  night, 
while  Esther  and  I  followed  a  few  days  after- 
wards,  bearing  with  us  two  potato-sacks  full  of 
learned  books,  and  such  other  of  our  household 
effects  as  were  worth  the  trouble  and  expense  of 
transport 


CHAPTER    IL 

OF  THE  STRANGE  MANNER  IN  WHICH  A 
CAME   TO   CLOOMBER. 

BRANKSOME  might  have  appeared  a  poor 
dwelling-place  when  compared  to  the  house  of 
an  English  squire  ;  but  to  us,  after  our  long  resi- 
dence in  stuffy  apartments,  it  was  of  regal  mag- 
nificence. The  building  was  broadspread  and 
low,  with  red-tiled  roof,  diamond-paned  win- 
dows, and  a  profusion  of  dining-rooms  with 
smoke-blackened  ceilings  and  oaken  wainscots. 
In  front  was  a  small  lawn,  girt  round  with  a  thin 
fringe  of  haggard  and  ill-grown  beeches,  all 
gnarled  and  withered  from  the  blighting  effects 
of  the  sea  spray.  Behind  lay  the  scattered  ham- 
let  of  Branksome-Bere — a  dozen  cottages  at  most 
—inhabited  by  rude  fisher-folk  who  looked  upon 
the  laird  as  their  natural  protector.  To  the 
west  was  the  broad  yellow  beach  and  the  Irish 
Sea;  while  in  all  other  directions  the  desolate 
moors,  greyish  green  in  the  foreground  and 
purple  in  the  distance,  stretched  away  in  long, 
low  curves  to  the  horizon. 


Very  bleak  and  lonely  it  was  upon  this  Wig. 
town  coast.  A  man  might  walk  many  a  weary 
mile  and  never  see  a  living  thing  except  the 
white,  heavy-flapping  kittiwakes,  which  screamed 
and  cried  to  each  other  with  their  shrill,  sad 
voices.  Very  lonely  and  very  bleak  !  Once  out 
of  sight  of  Branksome  and  there  was  no  sign  of 
the  works  of  man  save  only  where  the  high,  white 
tower  of  Cloomber  Hall  shot  up,  like  the  head- 
stone of  some  giant  grave,  from  amid  the  firs 
and  larches  which  girt  it  round.  This  great 
house,  a  mile  or  more  from  our  dwelling,  had 
been  built  by  a  wealthy  Glasgow  merchant  of 
strange  tastes  and  lonely  habits  ;  but  at  the  time 
of  our  arrival  it  had  been  untenanted  for  many 
years,  and  stood  with  weather-blotched  walls  and 
vacant,  staring  windows  looking  blankly  out  over 
the  hill  side.  Empty  and  mildewed,  it  served 
only  as  a  landmark  to  the  fishermen,  for  they  had 
found  by  experience  that  by  keeping  the  laird's 
chimney  and  the  white  tower  of  Cloomber  in  a 
line  they  could  steer  their  way  through  the  ugly 
reef  which  raises  its  jagged  back,  like  that  of  some 
sleeping  monster,  above  the  troubled  waters  of 
the  wind-swept  bay. 

'  To  this  wild  spot  it  was  that  fate  had  brought 
my  father,  my  sister,  and  myself.    For  us  its 


15 

loneliness  had  no  terrors.  After  the  hubbub  and 
bustle  of  a  great  city,  and  the  weary  task  of  up- 
holding appearances  upon  a  slender  income, 
there  was  a  grand,  soul-soothing  serenity  in  the 
long  sky-line  and  the  eager  air.  Here  at  least 
there  was  no  neighbor  to  pry  and  chatter.  The 
laird  had  left  his  phaeton  and  two  ponies  behind 
him,  with  the  aid  of  which  my  father  and  I 
would  go  the  round  of  the  estate  doing  such 
light  duties  as  fall  to  an  agent ;  while  our  gentle 
Esther  looked  to  our  household  needs,  an<< 
brightened  the  dark  old  building.  Such  was 
our  simple,  uneventful  existence  until  the  summer 
night  when  an  unlooked-for  incident  occurred 
which  proved  to  be  the  herald  of  those  strange 
doings  which  I  have  taken  up  my  pen  to  de- 
scribe.] 

It  had  been  my  habit  to  pull  out  of  an  evening 
in  the  laird's  skiff  and  to  catch  a  few  whiting 
which  might  serve  for  our  supper.  On  this 
well-remembered  occasion  my  sister  came  with 
me,  sitting  with  her  book  in  the  stern-sheets  of 
the  boat,  while  I  hung  my  lines  over  the  bows. 
The  sun  had  sunk  down  behind  the  rugged  Irish 
coast,  but  a  long  bank  of  flushed  clouds  still 
marked  the  spot,  and  cast  a  glory  upon  the 
waters.  The  whole  broad  ocean  was  seamed 


i6 

and  scarred  with  crimson  streaks.  I  had  risen 
in  the  boat,  and  was  gazing  round  in  delight  at 
the  broad  panorama  of  shore  and  sea  and  sky, 
when  my  sister  plucked  at  my  sleeve  with  a 
little,  sharp  cry  of  surprise. 

"  See,  John,"  she  cried  ;  "  there  is  a  light  in 
Cloomber  Tower  1" 

[  I  turned  my  head  and  stared  back  at  the  tall, 
white  turret  which  peeped  out  above  the  belt  of 
trees.  As  I  gazed  I  distinctly  saw  at  one  of  the 
windows  the  glint  of  a  light,  which  suddenly 
vanished,  and  then  shone  out  once  more  from 
another  higher  up.  There  it  flickered  for  some 
time,  and  finally  flashed  past  two  successive  win- 
dows underneath  before  the  trees  obscured  our 
view  of  it.  It  was  clear  that  some  one  bearing  a 
lamp  or  a  candle  had  climbed  up  the  tower  stairs 
and  had  then  returned  into  the  body  of  the 
house. 

"  Who  in  the  world  can  it  be  I"  I  exclaimed, 
speaking  rather  to  myself  than  to  Esther,  for  I 
could  see  by  the  surprise  upon  her  face  that  she 
had  no  solution  to  offer.  "  Maybe  some  of  the 
folk  from  Branksome-Bere  have  wanted  to  look 
over  the  place." 

My  sister  shook  her  head.  "There  is  not  one 
of  them  would  dare  to  set  foot  within  the  avenue 


'7 

gates,"  she  said.  "  Besides,  John,  the  keys  are 
kept  by  the  house-agent  at  Wigtown.  Were 
they  ever  so  curious,  none  of  .our  people  could 
find  their  way  in." 

When  I  reflected  upon  the  massive  door  and 
ponderous  shutters  which  guarded  the  lower 
story  of  Cloomber  I  could  not  but  admit  the 
force  of  my  sister's  objection.  The  untimely 
visitor  must  either  have  used  considerable  vio- 
lence in  order  to  force  his  way  in,  or  he  must 
have  obtained  possession  of  the  keys.  Piqued 
by  the  little  mystery,  I  pulled  for  the  beach, 
with  the  determination  to  see  for  myself  who  the 
Intruder  mi^ht  be,  and  what  were  his  intentions. 
Leaving  my  sister  at  Branksome,  and  summon- 
ing Seth  Jamieson,  an  old  man-o'-war's-man,  and 
one  of  the  stoutest  of  the  fishermen,  I  set  off 
across  the  moor  with  him  through  the  gathering 
darkness. 

"  It  hasna  got  a  guid  name  after  dark,  yon 
hoose,"  remarked  my  companion,  slackening  his 
pace  perceptibly  as  I  explained  to  him  the  nature 
of  our  errand.  "  It's  no  for  naething  that  him 
wha  owns  it  wunna  gang  within  a  Scotch  mile 
o't." 

"  Well,  Seth,  there  is  some  one  who  has  no 
fears  about  going  into  it,"  said  I,  pointing  to  the 


18 

great,  white  building  which  flickered  up  in  front 
of  us  through  the  gloom.  The  light  which  I  had 
observed  from  the  sea  was  moving  backwards 
and  forwards  past  the  lower-floor  windows,  the 
shutters  of  which  had  been  removed.  I  could 
now  see  that  a  second,  fainter  light  followed  a 
few  paces  behind  the  other.  Evidently  two 
individuals,  the  one  with  a  lamp  and  the  other 
with  a  candle  or  rushlight,  were  making  a  care- 
ful  examination  of  the  building. 

"  Let  ilka  man  blaw  his  ain  parritch,"  said  Seth 
Jamieson,  doggedly,  coming  to  a  dead  stop. 
"  What  is  it  tae  us  if  a  wraith  or  a  bogle  chooses 
tae  tak' a  fancy  tae  Cloomber?  It's  no  canny 
tae  meddle  wi'  such  things." 

"  Why,  man,"  I  cried,  "you  don't  suppose  a 
wraith  came  here  in  a  gig!  What  are  those 
lights  away  yonder  by  the  avenue  gates?" 

"  The  lamps  o*  a  gig,  sure  enough  !"  exclaimed 
tiny  companion  in  a  less  lugubrious  voice. 
"  Let's  steer  for  it,  Master  West,  and  speer  where 
she  hails  Ijrae." 

By  this  time  night  had  closed  in  save  for  a 
single  long,  narrow  slit  in  the  westward.  Stum- 
bling  across  the  moor  together,  we  made  our 
way  into  the  Wigtown  Road,  at  the  point  where 
the  high,  stone  pillars  mark  the  entrance  to  the 


'9 

Cloomber  avenue.  A  tall  dog-cart  stood  in 
front  of  the  gateway,  the  horse  browsing  upon 
the  thin  border  of  grass  which  skirted  the  road. 

"  It's  a*  richt !"  said  Jamieson,  taking  a  close 
look  at  the  deserted  vehicle.  "  I  ken  it  weel. 
It  belongs  tae  Maister  McNeil,  the  factor  body 
frae  Wigtown — him  who  keeps  the  keys." 

"  Then  we  may  as  well  have  speech  with  him 
now  that  we  are  here,"  I  answered.  "  They  are 
coming  down,  if  I  am  not  mistaken."  As  I 
spoke  we  heard  the  slam  of  the  heavy  door,  and 
within  a  few  minutes  two  figures,  the  one  tall 
and  angular,  the  other  short  and  thick,  came 
towards  us  through  the  darkness.  They  were 
talking  so  earnestly  that  they  did  not  observe  us 
until  they  had  passed  through  the  avenue  gate. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  McNeil,"  said  I,  stepping 
forward  and  addressing  the  Wigtown  factor, 
with  whom  I  had  some  slight  acquaintance. 
The  smaller  of  the  two  turned  his  face  towards 
me  as  I  spoke,  and  showed  me  that  I  was  not 
mistaken  in  his  identity,  but  his  taller  compan- 
ion sprang  back  and  showed  every  sign  of  vio- 
lent agitation. 

"  What  is  this,  McNeil  ?"  I  heard  him  say,  in  a 
gasping,  choking  voice.  "  Is  this  your  promise  ? 
What  is  the  meaning  of  it?" 


2O 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  general  I  Don't  be  a 
larmed!"said  the  little,  fat  factor  in  a  soothing 
fashion,  as  one  might  speak  to  a  frightened  child 
"  This  is  young  Mr.  Fothergill  West,  of  Brank- 
some,  though  what  brings  him  up  here  to-night 
is  more  than  I  can  understand.  However,  as 
you  are  to  be  neighbors,  I  can't  do  better  than 
take  the  opportunity  to  introduce  you  to  each 
other.  Mr.  West,  this  is  General  Heatherstone, 
who  is  about  to  take  a  lease  of  Cloomber  Hall. 

I  held  out  my  hand  to  the  tall  man,  who  took 
it  in  a  hesitating,  half-reluctant  fashion.  "  I 
came  up,"  I  explained,  "  because  I  saw  your 
lights  in  the  windows,  and  thought  that  some- 
thing might  be  wrong.  I  am  very  glad  I  did  so, 
since  it  has  given  me  the  chance  of  making  the 
general's  acquaintance." 

Whilst  I  was  talking  I  was  conscious  that  the 
new  tenant  of  Cloomber  Hall  was  peering  at  me 
very  closely  through  the  darkness.  As  I  con- 
eluded  he  stretched  out  a  long,  tremulous  arm 
and  turned  the  gig-lamp  in  such  a  way  as  to 
throw  a  flood  of  light  on  my  face. 

"  Good  God,  McNeil  1"  he  cried,  in  the  same 
frightened  voice  as  before,  "the  fellow's  as 
brown  as  chocolate!  He's  not  an  Englishman. 
You're  not  an  Englishman— vou,  sir  ?" 


91 

"  I*m  a  Scotchman,  born  and  ored,"  said  I, 
with  an  inclination  to  laugh,  which  was  only 
checked  by  my  new  acquaintance's  obvious 
terror. 

"A  Scotchman,  eh?"  said  he  with  a  sfgh  of 
relief.  "  It's  all  one  nowadays.  You  must 
excuse  me,  Mr. — Mr.  West.  I'm  nervous,  in- 
fernally nervous.  Come  along,  McNeil ;  we 
must  be  back  in  Wigtown  in  less  than  an  hour. 
Good-night,  gentlemen,  good-night  1"  The  two 
clambered  into  their  places;  the  factor  cracked 
his  whip,  and  the  high  dog-cart  clattered  away 
through  the  darkness,  casting  a  brilliant  tunnel 
of  yellow  light  on  either  side  of  it,  until  the 
rumble  of  its  wheels  died  away  in  the  distance. 

"What  do  you  think  of  our  new  neighbor, 
Jamieson  ?"  I  asked,  after  a  long  silence. 

"  Deed,  Mr.  West,  he  seems,  as  he  says  him- 
self,  to  be  vera  nervous.  Maybe  his  conscience 
is  oot  o'  order." 

"  His  liver,  more  likely,**  said  I.  "  He  looks 
as  if  he  had  tried  his  constitution  a  bit.  But  it's 
blowing  chill,  Seth,  my  lad,  and  it's  time  both  of 
us  were  indoors.*'  I  bade  my  companion  good- 
night, and  struck  off  across  the  moors  for  the 
cherry,  ruddy  light  which  marked  the  parlor 
windows  of  Branksome. 


CHAPTER  III. 

OP  OUR  FURTHER  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH    MAJOR. 
GENERAL  J.  B.  HEATHERSTONE. 

THERE  was,  as  may  well  be  imagined,  much 
stir  amongst  our  small  community  at  the  news 
that  the  Hall  was  to  be  inhabited  once  more, 
and  considerable  speculation  as  to  the  new  ten- 
ants  and  their  objects  in  choosing  this  particular 
part  of  the  country  for  their  residence.  It 
speedily  became  apparent  that,  whatever  their 
motives  might  be,  they  had  definitely  determined 
upon  a  lengthy  stay  ;  for  relays  of  plumbers  and 
of  joiners  came  down  from  Wigtown,  and  there 
was  hammering  and  repairing  going  on  from 
morning  till  night.  It  was  surprising  how 
quick  the  signs  of  the  wind  and  weather  were 
effaced,  until  the  great,  square-set  house  was  all 
as  spick-and-span  as  though  it  had  been  erected 
yesterday.  There  were  abundant  signs  that 
money  was  no  consideration  to  General  Heath- 
erstone,  and  that  it  was  not  on  the  score  of 
retrenchment  that  he  had  taken  up  his  abode 
among  us. 


23 

"  It  may  be  that  he  is  devoted  to  study,"  sug- 
gested my  father,  as  we  discussed  the  question 
round  the  breakfast  table.  "  Perhaps  he  has 
chosen  this  secluded  spot  to  finish  some  magnum 
opus  upon  which  he  is  engaged.  If  that  is  the 
case,  I  should  be  happy  to  let  him  have  the  run 
of  my  library." 

Esther  and  I  laughed  at  the  grandiloquent 
manner  in  which  he  spoke  of  the  two  potato- 
sacks  full  of  books. 

"  it  may  be  as  you  say,"  said  I,  "  but  the 
general  did  not  strike  me  during  my  short  inter- 
view as  being  a  man  who  was  likely  to  have  any 
very  pronounced  literary  tastes.  If  I  might 
hazard  a  guess,  I  should  say  that  he  is  here  upon 
medical  advice,  in  the  hopes  that  the  complete 
quiet  and  the  fresh  air  may  restore  his  shattered 
nervous  system.  If  you  had  seen  how  he  glared 
at  me,  and  the  twitching  of  his  fingers,  you 
would  have  thought  it  needed  some  restoring." 

"  I  do  wonder  whether  he  has  a  wife  and  a 
family,"  said  my  sister.  "  Poor  souls,  how  lonely 
they  will  be!  Why,  excepting  ourselves,  there 
is  not  a  family  that  they  could  speak  to  for  seven 
miles  and  more." 

"  General  Heatherstone  is  a  very  distinguished 
soldier,"  remarked  my  father. 


24 

"Why,  papa,  however  came  you  to  know 
anything  about  him?" 

"  Ah,  my  dears,"  said  my  father,  smiling  at  us 
over  his  coffee  cup,  "you  were  laughing  at  my 
library  just  now,  but  you  see  it  may  be  very  use. 
ful  at  times."  As  he  spoke  he  took  a  red=cov- 
ered  volume  from  a  shelf  and  turned  over  the 
pages.  "This  is  an  Indian  Army  List  of  three 
years  back,"  he  explained,  "  and  here  is  the  very 
gentleman  we  want—'  Heatherstone,  J.  B.,  Com- 
mander of  the  Bath,'  my  dears,  and  '  V.C.', 
think  of  that,  '  V.C.' — 'formerly  colonel  in  the 
Indian  Infantry,  4ist  Bengal  Foot,  but  now  re- 
tired with  the  rank  of  major-general.'  In  this 
other  column  is  a  record  of  his  services — '  cap- 
ture of  Ghuznee  and  defense  of  Jellalabad,  Sobra- 
on  1848,  Indian  Mutiny  and  reduction  of  Oudh. 
Five  times  mentioned  in  dispatches.'  I  think, 
my  dears,  that  we  have  cause  to  be  proud  of  our 
new  neighbor." 

"  It  doesn't  mention  there  whether  he  is  mar- 
ried or  not,  I  suppose,"  asked  Esther. 

"  No,"  said  my  father,  wagging  his  white  head 
with  a  keen  appreciation  of  his  own  humor.  "  It 
doesn't  include  that  under  the  heading  of  '  daring 
actions  '—though  it  very  well  might,  my  dear, 
it  very  well  might." 


All  our  doubts,  however,  upon  this  head  were 
very  soon  set  at  rest,  for  on  the  very  day  that 
the  repairing  and  the  furnishing  had  been  com- 
pleted I  had  occasion  to  ride  into  Wigtown,  and 
I  met  upon  the  way  a  carriage  which  was  bear- 
ing General  Heatherstone  and  his  family  to  their 
new  home.  An  elderly  lady,  worn  and  sickly- 
looking  was  by  his  side,  and  opposite  him  sat  a 
young  fellow  about  my  own  age  and  a  girl  who 
appeared  to  be  a  couple  of  years  younger.  I 
raised  my  hat,  and  was  about  to  pass  them,  when 
the  general  shouted  to  his  coachman  to  pull  up, 
and  held  out  his  hand  to  me.  I  could  see  now 
in  the  daylight  that  his  face,  although  harsh  and 
stern,  was  capable  of  assuming  a  not  unkindly 
expression. 

"How  are  you,  Mr.  Fothergill  West?"  ho 
cried.  "  I  must  apologize  to  you  if  I  was  a  little 
brusque  the  other  night — you  will  excuse  an  old 
soldier  who  has  spent  the  best  part  of  his  life  in 
harness.  All  the  same  you  must  confess  that 
you  are  rather  dark-skinned  for  a  Scotchman." 

4<  We  have  a  Spanish  strain  in  our  blood,"  *aid 
I,  wondering  at  his  recurrence  to  the  topic. 

"  That  would  of  course  account  for  it,"  he  re- 
marked. "  My  dear,"  to  his  wife,  "  allow  me  to 
introduce  Mr.  Fothergill  West  to  you.  This  is 


26 

my  son  and  my  daughter.  We  have  come  here 
in  search  of  rest,  Mr.  West — complete  rest." 

"  And  you  could  not  possibly  have  come  to  a 
better  place,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  you  think  so,  he  answered  ;  "  I  suppose 
it  is  very  quiet  indeed,  and  very  lonely.  You 
might  walk  through  these  country  lanes  at  night, 
I  dare  say,  and  never  meet  a  soul,  eh  ?" 

"  Well,  there  are  not  many  about  after  dark," 
I  said. 

"  And  you  are  not  much  troubled  with  va- 
grants or  wandering  beggars,  eh  ?  Not  many 
tinkers  or  tramps  or  rascally  gypsies — no  ver- 
min of  that  sort  about  ?" 

"  I  find  it  rather  cold,"  said  Mrs.  Heatherstone, 
drawing  her  thick  sealskin  mantle  tighter  round 
her  figure.  "  We  are  detaining  Mr.  West,  too." 

"So  we  are,  my  dear,  so  we  are.  Drive  on, 
coachman.  Good  day,  Mr.  West."  The  car- 
riage rattled  away  towards  the  Hall,  and  I  trot- 
ted thoughtfully  onwards  to  the  little  county 
metropolis. 

As  I  passed  up  the  High  Street  Mr.  McNeil 
ran  out  from  his  office  and  beckoned  to  me  to 
stop.  "Our  new  tenants  have  gone  out,"  he 
said.  "  They  drove  over  this  morning." 

"  I  met  them  on  the  way,"  I  answered.     As  I 


looked  down  at  the  little  factor  I  could  see  that 
his  face  was  flushed  and  that  he  bore  every  ap- 
pearance of  having  had  an  extra  glass. 

"  Give  me  a  real  gentleman  to  do  business 
with,"  he  said,  with  a  burst  of  laughter.  "They 
understands  me  and  I  understands  them.  '  What 
shall  I  fill  it  up  for  ?'  says  the  general,  taking  a 
blank  check  out  o*  his  pouch  and  laying  it  on 
the  table.  '  Two  hundred/  says  I,  leaving  a  bit 
o*  a  margin  for  my  own  time  and  trouble." 

"  I  thought  that  the  landlord  paid  you  for 
that,"  1  remarked. 

41  Aye,  aye,  but  it's  well  to  have  a  bit  margin. 
He  filled  it  up  and  threw  it  over  to  me  as  if  it 
had  been  an  auld  postage  stamp.  That's  the 
way  business  should  be  done  between  honest 
men — though  it  wouldna'  do  if  one  was  inclined 
to  take  an  advantage.  Will  ye  not  come  in,  Mr. 
West,  and  have  a  taste  of  my  whisky  ?" 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  I ;  "  I  have  business  to 
do." 

"  Well,  well,  business  is  the  chief  thing.  It's 
well  not  to  drink  in  the  morning,  too.  For  my 
own  part,  except  a  drop  before  breakfast  to  give 
me  an  appetite,  and  maybe  a  glass,  or  even  twa, 
afterwards  to  promote  digestion,  I  never  touch 
spirits  before  noon.  It  may  be  that  I'm  over 


28 

particular,  but  it's  as  well  to  be  on  the  safe  side. 
What  d'ye  think  o'  the  general,  Mr.  West  ?" 

"  Why,  I  have  hardly  had  an  opportunity  of 
judging,"  I  answered. 

Mr.  McNeil  tapped  his  forehead  with  his  fore- 
finger. "  That's  what  I  think  of  him,"  he  said, 
in  a  confidential  whisper.  "  He's  gone,  sir,  in 
my  estimation.  Now  what  would  you  consider 
to  be  a  proof  of  madness,  Mr.  West  ?" 

"  Why,  offering  a  blank  check  to  a  Wigtown 
house-agent,"  said  I. 

"Ah,  you're  aye  at  your  jokes.  But  between 
oorsels  now,  if  a  man  asked  ye  how  many  miles 
it  was  frae  a  seaport,  and  whether  ships  come 
there  from  the  East,  and  whether  there  were 
tramps  on  the  road,  and  whether  it  was  against 
the  lease  for  him  to  build  a  high  wall  round  the 
grounds,  what  would  ye  make  of  it,  eh  ?" 

"  I  should  certainly  think  him  eccentric,"  said 
I. 

"  If  every  man  had  his  due,  he  would  find  him- 
»el*  in  a  house  with  a  high  wall  round  the  grounds, 
and  that  without  costing  him  a  farthing,"  said 
the  agent. 

"Where  then?"  I  asked. 

44  Why,  in  the  Wigtown  County  Lunatic 
Asylum,"  cried  the  little  man,  with  a  bubble  of 


laughter,  in  the  midst  of  which  I  rode  on  my 
way,  leaving  him  still  chuckling  over  his  own 
facetiousness. 

The  arrival  of  the  new  family  at  Cloomber 
Hall  had  no  preceptible  effect  in  relieving  the 
monotony  of  our  secluded  district,  for  instead  of 
entering  into  such  simple  pleasures  as  the  coun- 
try had  to  offer,  or  interesting  themselves,  as  we 
had  hoped,  in  our  attempts  to  improve  the  lot  of 
our  poor  crofters  and  fisher  folk,  they  seemed  to 
shun  all  observation,  and  hardly  ever  to  venture 
beyond  the  avenue  gates.  We  soon  found  too 
that  the  factor's  words  as  to  the  inclosing  of  the 
grounds  were  founded  upon  fact,  for  gangs  of 
workmen  were  kept  hard  at  work  from  early  in 
the  morning  until  late  at  night  in  erecting  a  high 
wooden  fence  round  the  whole  estate.  When  this 
was  finished  and  topped  with  spikes  Cloomber 
Park  became  impregnable  to  any  one  but  an  ex- 
ceptionably  daring  climber.  It  was  as  if  the  old 
soldier  had  been  so  imbued  with  military  ideas 
that,  like  my  Uncle  Toby,  he  could  not  refrain 
even  in  times  of  peace  from  standing  upon  the 
defensive.  Stranger  still,  he  had  victualled  the 
house  as  if  for  a  siege,  for  Begbie,  the  chief 
grocer  of  Wigtown,  told  me  himself  that  the 
general  had  sent  him  an  order  for  hundreds  of 


30 

dozens  of  every  imaginable  potted  meat  and 
vegetable. 

It  may  be  imagined  that  all  these  incidents 
were  not  allowed  to  pass  without  comment. 
Over  the  whole  country-side  there  was  nothing 
but  gossip  about  the  new  tenants  of  Cloomber 
Hall  and  the  reasons  which  had  led  them  to 
come  among  us.  The  only  hypothesis,  however, 
which  the  bucolic  mind  could  evolve  was  that 
which  had  already  occurred  to  Mr.  McNeil,  the 
factor — namely,  that  the  old  general  and  his 
family  were  one  and  all  afflicted  with  madness, 
or,  as  an  alternative  conclusion,  that  he  had 
committed  some  heinous  offense  and  was  en- 
deavoring to  escape  the  consequences  of  his 
misdeeds.  These  were  both  natural  suppositions 
under  the  circumstances  ;  but  neither  of  them 
appeared  to  commend  itself  as  a  true  explanation 
of  the  facts. 

It  is  true  that  General  Heatherstone's  be- 
havior  on  the  occasion  of  our  first  interview 
was  such  as  to  suggest  some  suspicion  of  mental 
disease;  but  no  man  could  have  been  more 
reasonable  or  more  courteous  than  he  had  after, 
wards  shown  himself  to  be.  Then,  again,  his 
wife  and  children  led  the  same  secluded  life  that 
he  did  himself;  so  that  the  reason  could  not  bq 


one  peculiar  to  his  own  health.  As  to  the  possi- 
bility of  his  being  a  fugitive  from  justice,  that 
theory  was  even  more  untenable.  Wigtownshire 
was  bleak  and  lonely,  but  it  was  not  such  an 
obscure  corner  of  the  world  that  a  well-known 
soldier  could  hope  to  conceal  himself  there  ;  nor 
would  a  man  who  feared  publicity  set  every 
one's  tongue  wagging  as  the  general  had  done. 
On  the  whole,  I  was  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
true  solution  of  the  enigma  lay  in  his  own 
allusion  to  the  love  of  quiet,  and  that  they  had 
taken  shelter  here  with  an  almost  morbid  craving 
for  solitude  and  repose.  We  very  soon  had  an 
instance  of  the  great  lengths  to  which  this  desire 
for  isolation  would  carry  them. 

My  father  had  come  down  one  morning  with 
the  weight  of  a  great  determination  upon  his 
brow.  "  You  must  put  on  your  pink  frock  to- 
day, Esther,"  said  he  ;  "  and  you,  John,  you  must 
make  yourself  smart,  for  I  have  determined  that 
the  three  of  us  shall  drive  round  this  afternoon 
and  pay  our  respects  to  Mrs.  Heatherstone  and 
the  general." 

"  A  visit  to  Cloomber  1"  cried  Esther,  clapping 
her  hands. 

"  I  am  here,"  said  my  father,  with  dignity, 
*  not  only  as  the  laird's  agent,  but  also  as  his 


32 

kinsman.  In  that  capacity  I  am  convinced  that 
he  would  wish  me  to  call  upon  these  new  comers 
and  offer  them  any  politeness  which  is  in  our 
power.  At  present  they  must  feel  lonely  and 
friendless.  What  says  the  great  Firdousi  ? 
4  The  choicest  ornaments  to  a  man's  house  are 
his  friends.'" 

My  sister  and  I  knew  by  experience  that  when 
the  old  man  began  to  justify  his  resolution  by 
quotations  from  the  Persian  poets  there  was  no 
chance  of  shaking  it.  Sure  enough  that  after- 
noon saw  the  phaeton  at  the  door,  with  my 
father  perched  upon  the  seat,  with  his  second' 
best  coat  on  and  a  pair  of  new  driving-gloves. 

"  Jump  in,  my  dears,"  he  cried,  cracking  his 
whip  briskly  ;  "  we  shall  show  the  general  that 
he  has  no  cause  to  be  ashamed  of  his  neighbors." 

Alas,  pride  always  goes  before  a  fall !  Our 
well-fed  ponies  and  shining  harness  were  not 
destined  that  day  to  impress  the  tenants  of 
Cloomber  with  a  sense  of  our  importance.  We 
had  reached  the  avenue  gate,  and  I  was  about  to 
get  out  and  open  it,  when  our  attention  was 
arrested  by  a  very  large  wooden  placard,  which 
was  attached  to  one  of  the  trees  in  such  a  manner 
that  no  one  could  possibly  pass  without  seeing 
St.  On  the  white  surface  of  this  board  was 


33 

printed  in  big,  black  letters  the  following  hos- 
pitable inscription : — 


GENERAL   AND   MRS.    HEATHERSTONE 
HAVE    NO   WISH 

TO   INCREASE 
THE   CIRCLE   OF   THEIR    ACQUAINTANCE. 


We  all  sat  gazing  at  this  announcement  for 
some  moments  in  silent  astonishment.  Then 
Esther  and  I,  tickled  by  the  absurdity  of  the 
thing,  burst  out  laughing,  but  my  father  pulled 
the  ponies'  heads  round,  and  drove  home  with 
compressed  lips  and  the  cloud  of  much  wrath 
upon  his  brow.  I  have  never  seen  the  good  man 
so  thoroughly  moved,  and  I  am  convinced  that 
his  anger  did  not  arise  from  any  petty  feeling  of 
injured  vanity  upon  his  own  part,  but  from  the 
thought  that  a  slight  had  been  offered  to  the 
Laird  of  Branksome  whose  dignity  he  repre- 
sented. 


34 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OF  A  YOUNG  MAN  WITH  A  GREY  HEAD. 

IF  I  had  any  personal  soreness  on  account  of 
this  family  snub,  it  was  a  very  passing  emotion, 
and  one  which  was  soon  effaced  from  my  mind. 
It  chanced  that  on  the  very  next  day  after  the 
episode  I  had  occasion  to  pass  that  way  and 
stopped  to  have  another  look  at  the  obnoxious 
placard.  I  was  standing  staring  up  at  it  and 
wondering  what  could  have  induced  our 
neighbor  to  take  such  an  outrageous  step,  when 
I  became  suddenly  aware  of  a  sweet,  girlish  face 
which  peeped  out  at  me  from  between  the  bars 
of  the  gate,  and  of  a  white  hand  which  eagerly 
beckoned  me  to  approach.  As  I  advanced  to 
her  I  saw  that  it  was  the  same  young  lady 
whom  I  had  seen  in  the  carriage. 

"  Mr.  West,"  she  said,  in  a  quick  whisper, 
glancing  from  side  to  side  as  she  spoke  in  a 
nervous,  hasty  manner,  "  I  wish  to  apologize  to 
you  for  the  indignity  to  which  you  and  your 
family  were  subjected  yesterday.  My  brother 
was  ia  the  avenue,  and  saw  it  all,  but  he  is 


35 

powerless  to  interfere.  I  assure  you,  Mr.  West, 
that  if  that  hateful  thing,"  pointing  up  at  the 
placard,  "  has  given  you  any  annoyance,  it  has 
given  my  brother  and  myself  far  more." 

"  Why,  Miss  Heatherstone  ?"  said  I,  putting 
the  matter  off  with  a  laugh.  "  Britain  is  a  free 
country,  and  if  a  man  chooses  to  warn  off  visitors 
from  his  premises  there  is  no  reason  why  he 
should  not." 

"  It  is  nothing  less  than  brutal,"  she  broke  out, 
with  a  petulant  stamp  of  her  foot.  "  To  think 
that  your  sister,  too,  should  have  such  an  un- 
provoked insult  offered  to  her !  I  am  ready  to 
sink  with  shame  at  the  very  thought." 

"  Pray  do  not  give  yourself  one  moment's  un- 
easiness upon  the  subject,"  said  I,  earnestly,  for 
I  was  grieved  at  her  evident  distress.  "  I  am 
sure  that  your  father  has  some  reason  unknown 
to  us  for  taking  this  step." 

"  God  knows  he  has !"  she  answered,  with 
ineffable  sadness  in  her  voice,  "  and  yet  I  think 
it  would  be  more  manly  to  face  a  danger  than  to 
fly  from  it.  However,  he  knows  best,  and  it  is 
impossible  for  us  to  judge.  But  who  is  this?" 
she  exclaimed,  anxiously  peering  up  the  dark 
avenue.  "  Oh,  it  is  my  brother  Mordaunt. 
Mordaunt,"  she  said,  as  the  young  man  ap- 


36 

proached  us,  "  I  have  been  apologizing  to  Mr. 
West  for  what  happened  yesterday  in  yournamf 
as  well  as  my  own." 

"  I  am  very,  very  glad  to  have  the  opportunity 
of  doing  it  in  person,"  said  he,  courteously.  "  1 
only  wish  that  I  could  see  your  sister  and  you! 
father  as  well  as  yourself,  to  tell  them  how  sorry 
I  am.  I  think  you  had  better  run  up  to  thd 
house,  little  one,  for  it's  getting  near  tiffin  time, 
No— don't  you  go,  Mr.  West.  I  want  to  have  a 
word  with  you." 

Miss  Heatherstone  waved  her  hand  to  me 
with  a  bright  smile,  and  tripped  off  up  the 
avenue,  while  her  brother  unbolted  the  gate, 
and,  passing  through,  closed  it  again,  locking  it 
upon  the  outside. 

"  I'll  have  a  stroll  down  the  road  with  you,  if 
you  have  no  objection.  Have  a  manilla."  He 
drew  a  couple  of  cheroots  from  his  pocket  and 
handed  one  to  me.  "  You'll  find  they  are  not 
bad,"  he  said.  "  I  became  a  connoisseur  in 
tobacco  when  I  was  in  India.  Are  you  lit?  1 
hope  I  am  not  interfering  with  your  business  in 
coming  along  with  you." 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  answered.  "  I  am  very  glad  to 
have  your  company." 

''I'll  tell  you  a  secret."  said  pay  companion. 


37 

"  This  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  been  outside 
the  grounds  since  we  have  been  down  here." 

"  And  your  sister?" 

"  She  has  never  been  out  either,"  he  answered. 
"  I  have  given  the  governor  the  slip  to-day,  but 
he  wouldn'i  half  like  it  if  he  knew.  It's  a  whim 
of  his  that  we  should  keep  ourselves  entirely  to 
ourselves.  At  least  some  people  would  call  it  a 
whim  ;  for  My  own  part  I  have  reason  to  believe 
that  he  has  solid  grounds  for  all  that  he  does — 
though  perhaps  in  this  matter  he  may  be  a  little 
too  exacting." 

"  You  must  *urely  find  it  very  lonely,"  said  I. 
"Couldn't  you  manage  to  slip  down  at  times  and 
have  a  smoke  with  me  ?  That  house  over  yon- 
der is  Branksome/' 

"  Indeed  you  are  very  kind,"  he  answered,  with 
sparkling  eyes.  "  I  should  dearly  like  to  run 
over  now  and  again.  With  the  exception  of 
Israel  Stakes,  our  old  coachman  and  gardener, 
I  have  not  a  soul  that  I  can  speak  to." 

"  And  your  sister,  she  must  feel  it  even  more," 
said  I,  thinking  in  my  heart  that  my  new 
acquaintance  made  ratht/r  too  much  of  his  own 
troubles  and  too  little  of  those  of  his  companion. 

"Yes;  poor  Gabriel  feels  it,  no  doubt,"  he 
answered,  carelessly  ;  "  but  ii's  a  more  unnatural 


38 

thing  for  a  young  man  of  my  age  to  be  cooped 
up  in  this  way  than  for  a  woman.  Look  at  me 
now.  I  am  three-and-twenty  next  March,  and 
yet  I  have  never  been  to  a  university,  nor  to  a 
school,  for  that  matter.  I  am  as  complete  an 
ignoramus  as  any  of  these  clodhoppers.  It 
seems  strange  to  you,  no  doubt ;  and  yet  it  is  so. 
Now,  don't  you  think  I  deserve  a  better  fate  ?" 
He  stopped  as  he  spoke,  and  faced  round  to  me, 
throwing  his  palms  forward  in  appeal. 

As  I  looked  at  him,  with  the  sun  shining  upon 
his  face,  he  certainly  did  seem  a  strange  bird  to 
be  cooped  up  in  such  a  cage.  Tall  and  muscular, 
with  a  keen,  dark  face,  and  sharp,  finely-cut 
features,  he  might  have  stepped  out  of  the  can- 
vas of  Murillo  or  Velasquez.  There  was  latent 
energy  and  power  in  his  firm-set  mouth,  his 
square  eyebrows,  and  the  whole  pose  of  his  elas- 
tic, well-knit  figure. 

"  There  is  the  learning  to  be  got  from  books 
and  the  learning  to  be  got  from  experience," 
said  I,  sententiously.  "  If  you  have  less  of  your 
share  of  the  one,  perhaps  you  have  more  of  the 
other.  I  cannot  believe  that  you  have  spent  all 
your  life  in  mere  idleness  and  pleasure." 

"  Pleasure  !"  he  cried.  "  Pleasure  1  Look  at 
this."  He  pulled  off  his  hat,  and  I  saw  that  his 


39 

black  hair  was  all  flecked  and  dashed  with 
streaks  of  grey.  "  Do  you  imagine  that  this 
came  from  pleasure  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  bitter 
laugh. 

"  You  must  have  had  some  great  shock,"  I  said, 
astonished  at  the  sight ;  *'  some  terrible  illness  in 
your  youth.  Or  perhaps  it  arises  from  a  more 
chronic  cause — a  constant,  gnawing  anxiety.  I 
have  known  men  as  young  as  you  whose  hair 
was  as  gr«y." 

"  Poor  devils!**    he  muttered  ;   "  I  pity  them." 

"  If  you  can  manage  to  slip  down  to  Brank- 
sorne  at  times,**  said  I,  "  perhaps  you  could 
bring  Miss  Heatherstone  with  you.  I  know 
that  my  father  and  my  sister  would  be  delighted 
to  see  her,  and  a  change,  if  only  ior  an  hour  or 
two,  might  do  her  good." 

"It  would  be  rather  hard  for  us  both  to  get 
ftway  together,"  he  answered.  "  However,  if  I 
see  a  chance  I  shall  bring  her  down.  It  might 
be  managed  some  afternoon,  perhaps,  for  the  old 
man  indulges  in  a  siesta  occasionally."  We  had 
reached  the  head  of  the  winding  lane  which 
branches  off  from  the  high  road  and  leads  up  to 
the  laird's  house,  so  my  companion  pulled  up. 
"  I  must  go  back,"  he  said,  "  or  they  will  miss 
«ie.  It's  very  kind  of  you,  West,  to  take  this 


40 

interest  in  us.  I'm  very  grateful  to  you,  and  so 
will  Gabriel  be  when  she  hears  of  your  kind 
invitation.  It's  a  real  heaping  of  coals  of  fire 
after  that  infernal  placard  of  my  father's." 

He  shook  my  hand  and  set  off  down  the  road, 
but  he  came  running  after  me  presently,  calling 
me  to  stop.  "  I  was  just  thinking,"  he  said, 
"  that  you  must  consider  us  a  great  mystery  up 
there  at  Cloomber.  I  dare  say  you  have  come 
to  look  upon  it  as  a  private  lunatic  asylum,  and 
I  can't  blame  you-  If  you  are  interested  in  the 
matter,  I  feel  it  is  unfriendly  upon  my  part  not 
to  satisfy  your  curiosity,  but  I  have  promised 
my  father  to  be  silent  about  it.  And  indeed,  if 
I  were  to  tell  you  all  that  I  know  you  might  not 
be  very  much  the  wiser  after  all.  I  would  have 
you  understand  this,  however — that  my  father  is 
as  sane  as  you  or  I,  and  that  he  has  very  good 
reasons  for  living  the  life  which  he  does.  I  may 
add  that  his  wish  to  remain  secluded  does  not 
arise  from  any  unworthy  or  dishonorable 
motives,  but  merely  from  the  instinct  of  self- 
preservation." 

"  He  is  in  danger,  then  !"  I  ejaculated. 

"  Yes;  he  is  in  constant  danger." 

"  But  why  does  he  not  apply  to  the  magistrates 
for  protection  ?"  I  asked.  "  If  he  is  afraid  of  any 


41 

one,  he  has  only  to  name  him  and  they  will  bind 
him  over  to  keep  the  peace." 

"  My  dear  West,"  said  young  Heatherstone, 
"  the  danger  with  which  my  father  is  threatened 
is  one  that  cannot  be  averted  by  any  human 
intervention.  It  is  none  the  less  very  real,  and 
possibly  very  imminent." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  assert  that  it  is  super- 
natural,"  I  said,  incredulously. 

"  Well,  hardly  that,  either,"  he  answered  with 
hesitation.  "  But  there,"  he  continued,  "  I  have 
said  rather  more  than  I  should,  but  I  know  that 
you  will  not  abuse  my  confidence.  Good-bye." 
He  took  to  his  heels  and  was  soon  out  of  my 
sight,  round  a  curve  in  the  country  road. 

A  danger  which  was  real  and  imminent,  not  t3 
be  averted  by  human  means  and  yet  hardly 
supernatural — here  was  a  conundrum  indeed  ! 
I  had  come  to  look  upon  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Hall  as  mere  eccentrics,  but  after  what  young 
Mordaunt  Heatherstone  had  just  told  me,  1 
could  no  longer  doubt  that  some  dark  and 
sinister  meaning  underlay  all  their  actions.  The 
more  I  pondered  over  the  problem,  the  more 
unanswerable  did  it  appear,  and  yet  I  could  not 
get  the  matter  out  of  my  thoughts.  The  lonely, 
isolated  hall,  and  the  strange,  impending  catas- 


42 

trophe  which  hung  over  its  inmates,  appealed 
forcibly  to  my  imagination.  All  that  evening, 
and  late  into  the  night,  I  sat  moodily  by  the  fire, 
pondering  over  all  that  I  had  heard,  and  revolv- 
ing in  my  mind  the  various  incidents  which 
might  furnish  me  with  some  clue  to  the  mystery. 


43 


CHAPTER  V. 

HOW  FOUR  OF  US  CAME  TO  BE  UNDER  THB 
SHADOW  OF  CLOOMBER. 

I  TRUST  that  my  readers  will  not  set  me  down 
as  an  inquisitive  busybody  when  I  say  that  as 
the  days  and  weeks  went  by  I  found  my  atten- 
tion and  my  thoughts  more  and  more  attracted 
to  General  Heatherstoneand  the  mystery  which 
surrounded  him.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  endeav- 
ored by  hard  work  and  a  strict  attention  to  the 
laird's  affairs  to  direct  my  mind  into  some  more 
healthy  channel.  Do  what  I  would,  on  land  or 
on  the  water,  I  would  still  find  myself  puzzling 
over  this  one  question,  until  it  obtained  such  a 
hold  upon  me  that  I  felt  that  it  was  useless  for 
me  to  attempt  to  apply  myself  to  anything  until 
I  had  come  to  some  satisfactory  solution  of  it. 
I  could  never  pass  the  dark  line  of  five-foot 
fencing  and  the  great  iron  gate,  with  its  massive 
lock,  without  pausing  and  racking  my  brain  as 
to  what  the  secret  might  be  which  was  shut  in 
by  that  inscrutable  barrier.  Yet  with  all  my 


44 

conjectures  and  all  my  observations  I  could 
never  come  to  any  conclusion  which  could  for  a 
moment  be  accepted  as  an  explanation  of  the 
facts. 

My  sister  had  been  out  for  a  stroll  one  night, 
visiting  a  sick  peasant,  or  performing  some 
other  of  the  numerous  acts  of  charity  by  which 
she  had  made  herself  beloved  by  the  whole 
countryside.  "John,"  she  said  when  she  re- 
turned, "  have  you  not  observed  Cloomber  Hall 
at  night?" 

"  No,"  I  answered,  laying  down  the  book 
which  I  was  reading.  "  Not  since  that  memor- 
able evening  when  the  general  and  Mr.  McNeil 
came  over  to  make  their  inspection." 

"  Well,  John,  will  you  put  your  hat  on  and 
take  a  little  walk  with  me  ?"  I  could  see  by 
her  manner  that  something  had  agitated  or 
frightened  her. 

"  Why,  bless  the  girl !'  cried  I,  boisterously, 
"  what  is  the  matter?  The  old  hall  has  not  gone 
on  fire,  surely  ?  You  look  as  grave  as  if  all 
Wigtown  were  in  a  blaze." 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,"  she  said,  smiling. 
"  But  do  come  out,  Jack.  I  should  very  much 
like  you  to  see  it." 

I  had  always  refrained  from  saying  anything 


45 

which  might  alarm  my  sister,  so  that  she  knew 
nothing  of  the  interest  which  our  neighbors' 
doings  had  for  me.  At  her  request  I  took  my 
hat  and  followed  her  out  into  the  darkness.  She 
led  the  way  along  a  little  footpath  over  the 
moor,  which  brought  us  to  some  rising  ground, 
from  which  we  could  look  down  upon  the  Hall 
without  our  view  being  obstructed  by  any  of  the 
fir-trees  which  had  been  planted  round  it. 
"  Look  at  that,"  said  my  sister,  pausing  at  the 
summit  of  this  little  eminence. 

Cloomber  lay  beneath  us  in  a  blaze  of  light. 
In  the  lower  floors  the  shutters  obscured  the 
illumination,  but  above,  from  the  broad  windows 
of  the  second  story  to  the  thin  slits  at  the  sum. 
mit  of  the  tower  there  was  not  a  chink  or  an 
aperture  which  did  not  send  forth  a  stream  of 
radiance.  So  dazzling  was  the  effect  that  for  a 
moment  I  was  persuaded  that  the  house  was  on 
fire,  but  the  steadiness  and  clearness  of  the  light 
soon  freed  me  from  that  apprehension.  It  was 
clearly  the  result  of  ro.a^y  lamps  placed  syste- 
matically all  over  the  bu/Iding.  It  added  to  the 
strange  effect  that  all  tr.ese  brilliantly  illuminated 
rooms  were  apparently  untenanted,  and  some  of 
them,  as  far  as  we  could  judge,  were  not  even  fur- 
nished.  Through  the  whole  great  house  there 


46 

was  no  sign  of  movement  or  of  life— nothing  but 
the  clear,  unwinking  flood  of  yellow  light.  I 
was  still  lost  in  wonder  at  the  sight  when  I  heard 
a  short,  quick  sob  at  my  side. 

"  What  is  it,  Esther,  dear  ?"  I  asked,  looking 
down  at  my  companion. 

"  I  feel  so  frightened.  Oh,  John,  John,  take 
me  home  ;  I  feel  so  frightened  !"  She  clung  to 
my  arm,  and  pulled  at  my  coat  in  a  perfect 
frenzy  of  fear. 

"  It's  all  safe,  darling,"  I  said,  soothingly. 
"  There  is  nothing  to  fear.  What  has  upset  you 

80?" 

"  I  am  afraid  of  them,  John;  I  am  afraid  of  the 
Heatherstones.  Why  is  their  house  lit  up  like 
this  every  night  ?  I  have  heard  from  others  that 
it  is  always  so.  And  why  does  the  old  man  run 
like  a  frightened  hare  if  any  one  comes  upon 
him.  There  is  something  wrong  about  it,  John, 
and  it  frightens  me." 

I  pacified  her  as  welt  as  I  could,  and  led  her 
home  with  me,  where  I  took  care  that  she  should 
have  some  hot  port  negus  before  going  to  bed. 
I  avoided  the  subject  of  the  Heatherstones  for 
fear  of  exciting  her,  and  she  did  not  recur  to  it 
of  her  own  accord.  I  was  convinced,  however, 
from  what  I  had  heard  from  her  that  she  had  for 


47 

some  time  back  been  making  her  own  observa- 
tions upon  our  neighbors,  and  that  in  doing  so  she 
had  put  a  considerable  strain  upon  her  nerves.  I 
could  see  that  the  mere  fact  of  the  Hall  being 
illuminated  at  night  was  not  enough  to  account 
for  her  extreme  agitation,  and  that  it  must  have 
derived  its  importance  in  her  eyes  from  being 
one  in  a  chain  of  incidents,  all  of  which  had  left  a 
weird  or  unpleasant  impression  upon  her  mind. 
That  was  the  conclusion  which  I  came  to  at  the 
time,  and  I  have  reason  to  know  now  that  I  was 
right,  and  that  my  sister  had  even  more  cause 
than  I  had  myself  for  believing  that  there  was 
something  uncanny  about  the  tenants  of  Cloom- 
ber. 

Our  interest  in  the  matter  may  have  arisen  at 
first  from  nothing  higher  than  curiosity  ;  but 
events  soon  took  a  turn  which  associated  us 
more  closely  with  the  fortunes  of  the  Heather- 
stone  family.  Mordaunt  had  taken  advantage 
of  my  invitation  to  come  down  to  the  laird's 
house,  and  on  several  occasions  he  brought  with 
him  his  beautiful  sister.  The  four  of  us  would 
wander  over  the  moors  together  ;  or,  perhaps,  if 
the  day  were  fine,  set  sail  upon  our  little  skiff 
and  stand  off  into  the  Irish  Sea.  On  such 
excursions  the  brother  and  sister  would  be  as 


48 

merry  and  as  happy  as  two  children.  It  was  a 
keen  pleasure  to  them  to  escape  from  their  dull 
fortress,  and  to  see,  if  only  for  a  few  hours, 
friendly  and  sympathetic  faces  round  them. 
There  could  be  but  one  result  when  four  young 
people  were  brought  together  in  sweet,  forbid- 
den intercouse.  Acquaintanceship  warmed  into 
friendship,  and  friendship  flamed  suddenly  into 
love.  Gabriel  sits  beside  me  now  as  I  write,  and 
she  agrees  with  me  that,  dear  as  is  the  subject  to 
ourselves,  the  whole  story  of  our  mutual  affec- 
tion is  of  too  personal  a  nature  to  be  more  than 
touched  upon  in  this  statement.  Suffice  it  to 
?ay  that,  within  a  few  weeks  of  our  first  meeting, 
Mordaunt  Heatherstone  had  won  the  heart  of 
my  dear  sister,  and  Gabriel  had  given  me  that 
pledge  which  death  itselt  will  not  be  able  to 
break. 

I  have  alluded  in  this  brief  way  to  the  double 
tie  which  sprang  up  between  the  two  families, 
because  I  have  no  wish  that  this  narrative  should 
degenerate  into  anything  approaching  to 
romance,  or  that  I  should  lose  the  thread  of  the 
facts  which  I  have  set  myself  to  chronicle.  These 
are  connected  with  General  Heatherstone  and 
only  indirectly  with  my  own  personal  history. 
It  is  enough  if  I  say  that  after  our  engagement 


49 

the  visits  to  Bntnksome  became  more  frequent, 
and  that  our  friends  were  able  sometimes  to 
spend  a  whole  day  with  us  when  business  had 
called  the  general  to  Wigtown,  or  when  his  gout 
confined  him  to  his  room.  As  to  our  good 
father,  he  was  ever  ready  to  greet  us  with  many 
small  jests  appropriate  to  the  occasion ;  for  we 
had  no  secrets  from  him,  and  he  already  looked 
upon  us  all  as  his  children. 

There  were  times  when  on  account  of  some 
peculiarly  dark  or  restless  fit  of  the  general's  it 
was  impossible  for  weeks  on  end  for  either 
Gabriel  or  Mordaunt  to  get  away  from  the 
grounds.  The  old  man  would  even  stand  on 
guard  at  the  avenue  gate,  or  pace  up  and  down 
the  drive  as  though  he  suspected  that  attempts 
had  been  made  to  penetrate  his  seclusion.  Pass- 
ing  of  an  evening  I  have  seen  his  dark,  grim 
figure  flitting  about  in  the  shadow  of  the  trees, 
or  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  hard,  angular  face 
peering  out  at  me  from  behind  the  bars.  My 
heart  would  often  sadden  for  him  as  I  noticed  his 
uncouth,  nervous  movements,  his  furtive  glances 
and  twitching  features.  Who  would  have  be- 
lieved that  this  slinking,  cowering  creature  had 
once  been  a  dashing  officer,  who  had  fought  the 
battles  pf  his  country  and  had  w«*i  the  p«lm  of 


50 

bravery  among  the  host  of  brave  men  around 
him  ? 

In  spite  of  the  old  soldier's  vigilance,  we  man- 
aged to  hold  communication  with  our  friends. 
Immediately  behind  the  Hall  there  was  a  spot 
where  the  fencing  had  been  so  carelessly  erected 
that  two  of  the  rails  could  be  removed  without 
difficulty,  leaving  a  broad  gap,  which  gave  us 
the  opportunity  for  many  a  stolen  interview, 
though  they  were  necessarily  short,  for  the  gen- 
eral's  movements  were  erratic,  and  no  part  of 
the  grounds  was  secure  from  his  visitations. 

How  vividly  one  of  these  hurried  meetings 
rises  before  me  !  It  stands  out  clear,  peaceful 
and  distinct  amid  the  wild,  mysterious  incidents 
which  were  destined  to  lead  up  to  the  terrible 
catastrophe  which  has  cast  a  shade  over  our 
lives.  I  can  remember  that  as  I  walked  through 
the  fields  the  grass  was  damp  with  the  rain  of 
the  morning,  and  the  air  was  heavy  with  the 
smell  of  the  fresh-turned  earth.  Gabriel  was 
waiting  for  me  under  the  hawthorn  tree  outside 
the  gap,  and  we  stood  hand  in  hand  looking 
down  at  the  long  sweep  of  moorland,  and  at  the 
broad,  blue  channel  which  encircled  it  with  its 
fringe  of  foam.  Far  away  in  the  northwest  the 
sun  glinted  upon  the  high  peak  of  Mount  Thros- 


ton.  From  where  we  stood  we  eoukl  see  the 
smoke  of  the  steamers  as  they  ploughed  along 
the  busy  water-way  which  leads  to  Belfast. 

"  Is  it  not  magnificent?"  Gabriel  cried,  clasp- 
ing her  hands  round  my  arm.  "Ah,  John,  why 
are  we  not  free  to  sail  away  over  these  waves 
together,  and  leave  all  our  troubles  behind  us  on 
the  shore?" 

"  And  what  are  the  troubles  which  you  would 
leave  behind  you,  dear  one  ?"  I  asked.  "  May  I 
not  know  them,  and  help  you  to  bear  them?" 

"  I  have  no  secrets  from  you,  John,"  she 
answered.  "  Our  chief  trouble  is,  as  you  may 
guess,  our  poor  father's  strange  behavior.  Is  it 
not  a  sad  thing  for  all  of  us  that  a  man  who  has 
played  such  a  distinguished  part  in  the  world 
should  skulk  from  one  obscure  corner  of  the 
country  to  another,  and  should  defend  him- 
self with  locks  and  barriers  as  though  he  were 
a  common  thief  flying  from  justice  ?  This 
is  a  trouble,  John,  which  it  is  out  of  your  power 
to  alleviate." 

"  But  why  does  he  do  it,  Gabriel  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  she  answered  frankly.  "  I 
know  only  that  he  imagines  some  deadly  danger 
to  be  hanging  over  his  head,  and  that  this  dan- 
ger was  incurred  by  him  during  his  stay  ip 


5* 

India.     What  its  nature  may  be  I  have  no  more 
idea  than  you  have." 

"  Then  your  brother  has,"  I  remarked.  "  I  am 
sure  from  the  way  in  which  he  spoke  to  me  about 
it  one  day  that  he  knows  what  it  is,  and  that  he 
looks  upon  it  as  real." 

"  Yes,  he  knows,  and  so  does  my  mother,"  she 
answered  ;  "  but  they  have  always  kept  it  secret 
from  me.  My  poor  father  is  very  excited  at 
present.  Day  and  night  he  is  in  an  agony  of 
apprehension,  but  it  will  soon  be  the  5th  of 
October,  and  after  that  he  will  be  at  peace." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  I  asked  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  By  experience,"  said  she,  gravely.  "  On  the 
fifth  of  October  these  fears  of  his  come  to  a  crisis. 
For  years  back  he  has  been  in  the  habit  of  lock- 
ing Mordaunt  and  myself  up  in  our  rooms  on 
that  date,  so  that  we  have  no  idea  what  occurs ; 
but  we  have  always  found  that  he  has  been 
much  relieved  afterwards,  and  has  continued  to 
be  comparatively  in  peace  until  that  day  began 
to  draw  round  again." 

"  Then  you  have  only  ten  days  or  so  to  wait," 
I  remarked,  for  September  is  drawing  to  a  close. 
"  By  the  way,  dearest,  why  is  it  that  you  light 
up  all  your  rooms  at  nighf  c'"' 


53 

"  You  have  noticed  it,  then  ?"  she  said.  It 
comes  also  from  my  father's  fears.  He  does  not 
like  to  have  one  dark  corner  in  the  whole  house. 
He  walks  about  a  good  deal  at  night,  and  in- 
spects everything,  from  the  attics  right  down  to 
the  cellars.  He  has  large  lamps  in  every  room 
and  corridor,  even  the  empty  ones,  and  he  or- 
ders the  servants  to  light  them  all  at  dusk." 

"  I  am  rather  surprised  that  you  manage  to 
keep  your  servants,"  I  said,  laughing.  "  The 
maids  in  these  parts  are  a  superstitious  class, 
and  their  imaginations  are  easily  excited  by  any- 
thing which  they  don't  understand." 

"  The  cook  and  both  housemaids  are  from 
London,  and  are  used  to  our  ways.  We  pay 
them  on  a  very  high  scale  to  make  up  for  any 
inconvenience  to  which  they  may  be  put.  Israel 
Stakes,  the  coachman,  is  the  only  one  who  comes 
from  this  part  of  the  country,  and  he  seems  to  be 
a  stolid,  honest  fellow,  who  is  not  easily  scared." 

"  Poor  fittle  girl,"  I  exclaimed,  looking  down 
at  the  slim,  graceful  figure  by  my  side.  "  This 
is  no  atmosphere  for  you  to  live  in.  Why  will 
you  not  let  me  rescue  you  from  it?  Why  won't 
you  allow  me  to  go  straight  and  ask  the  general 
for  your  hand  ?  At  the  worst  he  could  only  re- 
fuse." 


54 

She  turned  quite  haggard  and  pale  at  the  very 
thought.  "For  God's  sake,  John,"  she  cried, 
earnestly,  "  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  would 
whip  us  all  away  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  and 
within  a  week  we  should  be  settling  down  again 
in  some  wilderness  where  we  might  never  have 
a  chance  of  seeing  or  hearing  from  you  again. 
Besides,  he  never  would  forgive  us  for  ventur- 
ing out  of  the  grounds." 

"  I  don't  think  that  he  is  a  hard-hearted  man," 
I  remarked.  "  I  have  seen  a  kindly  look  in  his 
eyes,  for  all  his  stern  face." 

"  He  can  be  the  kindest  of  fathers,"  she  an- 
swered. "  But  he  is  terrible  when  opposed  or 
thwarted.  You  have  never  seen  him  so,  and  I 
trust  you  never  will.  It  was  that  strength  of 
will  and  impatience  of  opposition  which  made 
him  such  a  splendid  officer.  I  assure  you  that 
in  India  every  one  thought  a  great  deal  of  him. 
The  soldiers  were  afraid  of  him,  but  they  would 
have  followed  him  anywhere." 

"  And  had  he  these  nervous  attacks  then  ?" 

"  Occasionally ;  but  not  nearly  so  acutely. 
He  seems  to  think  that  the  danger — whatever  it 
may  be — becomes  more  imminent  every  year. 
Oh,  John,  it  is  terrible  to  be  waiting  like  this 
>rith  a  sword  over  our  heads — and  all  the  more 


55 

terrible  to  me  since  1  have  no  idea  where  the 
blow  is  to  come  from." 

"  Dear  Gabriel,"  I  said,  taking  her  hand  and 
drawing  her  to  my  side,  "  look  over  all  this 
pleasant  country-side  and  the  broad,  blue  sea» 
Is  it  not  all  peaceful  and  beautiful?  In  these 
cottages  with  their  red-tiled  roofs  peeping  out 
from  the  grey  moor,  there  live  none  but  simple, 
God-fearing  men,  who  toil  hard  at  their  crofts 
and  bear  enmity  to  no  man.  Within  seven  miles 
of  us  is  a  large  town,  with  every  civilized  appli- 
ance for  the  preservation  of  order.  Ten  miles 
further  there  is  a  garrison  quartered,  and  a  tel- 
egram would  at  any  time  bring  down  a  company 
of  soldiers,  Now,  I  ask  you,  dear,  in  the  name 
of  common  sense,  what  conceivable  danger 
could  threaten  you  in  this  secluded  neighbor- 
hood with  the  means  of  help  so  near?  You  as- 
sure me  that  the  peril  is  not  connected  with 
your  father's  health  ?" 

"  No,  I  am  sure  of  that.  It  is  true  that  Dr. 
Easterling,  of  Stranraer,  has  been  over  to  see 
him  once  or  twice,  but  that  was  merely  for  some 
small  indisposition.  I  can  assure  you  that  the 
danger  is  not  to  be  looked  for  in  that  direc- 
tion." 

•*  Then   I   can  assure  you?  said   I,  laughing, 


56 

"  that  there  is  no  danger  at  all.  It  must  be  some 
strange  monomania  or  hallucination.  No  other 
hypothesis  will  cover  the  facts." 

"  Would  my  father's  monomania  account  for 
the  fact  of  my  brother's  hair  being  turned 
grey  and  my  mother  wasting  away  to  a  mere 
shadow?" 

"  Undoubtedly,"  I  answered.  "  The  long-con- 
tinued worry  of  the  general's  restlessness  and 
irritability  would  produce  those  effects  on  sensi- 
tive natures." 

"  No,  no,"  said  she,  shaking  her  head  sadly ; 
"  I  have  been  exposed  to  his  restlessness  and  ir- 
ritability, but  they  have  had  no  such  effect  upon 
me.  The  difference  between  us  lies  in  the  fact 
that  they  know  this  awful  secret  and  we  do 
not." 

"  My  dear  girl,"  said  I,  "  the  days  of  family 
apparitions  and  that  kind  of  thing  are  gone. 
Nobody  is  haunted  nowadays,  so  we  can  put  that 
supposition  out  of  the  question.  Having  done  so, 
what  remains?  There  is  absolutely  no  other 
theory  which  could  even  be  suggested.  Believe 
me,  the  whole  mystery  is  that  the  heat  of  India 
has  been  too  much  for  your  poor  father's 
brain." 

What  she  would  have  answered  I  cannot  tell, 


for  at  that  moment  she  gave  a  start  as  if  some 
sound  had  fallen  upon  her  ear.  As  she  looked 
round  apprehensively  I  suddenly  saw  her  fea- 
tures become  rigid  and  her  eyes  fixed  and  di- 
lated. Following  the  direction  of  her  gaze,  I 
felt  a  sudden  thrill  of  fear  pass  through  me  as  I 
perceived  a  human  face  surveying  us  from  be- 
hind one  of  the  trees — a  face  every  feature  of 
which  was  distorted  by  the  most  malignant 
hatred  and  anger.  Finding  himself  observed  he 
stepped  out  and  advanced  towards  us,  when  I  saw 
it  was  none  other  than  the  general  himself.  His 
beard  was  all  a-bristle  with  fury,  and  his  deep- 
set  eyes  glowed  from  under  their  heavily-veined 
lids  with  a  most  sinister  and  demoniacal  bright* 


CHAPTER  VI. 

I 

MOW  I   CAME  TO   BE   ENLISTED   AS   ONE   OF  THB 
GARRISON  OF  CLOOMBER. 

"  To  your  room,  girl !"  he  cried  in  a  hoarse, 
harsh  voice,  stepping  in  between  us  and  pointing 
authoritatively  towards  the  house.  He  waited 
until  Gabriel,  with  a  last  frightened  glance  at 
me,  had  passed  through  the  gap,  and  then  he 
turned  upon  me  with  an  expression  so  murder- 
ous that  I  stepped  back  a  pace  or  two,  and  tight* 
ened  my  grasp  upon  my  oak  stick. 

"  You — you — "  he  sputtered,  with  his  hand  up 
to  his  throat,  as  though  his  fury  were  choking 
him.  "  You  have  dared  to  intrude  upon  my 
privacy  !  Do  you  think  I  built  this  fence  that  all 
the  vermin  in  the  country  might  congregate 
round  it  1  Oh,  you  have  been  very  near  your 
death,  my  fine  fellow  !  You  will  never  be  nearer 
until  your  time  comes.  Look  at  this!"  He 
pulled  a  squat,  thick  pistol  out  of  his  bosom. 
*  If  you  had  passed  through  that  gap  and  set 
foot  on  my  land  I'd  have  let  daylight  into  you. 


59 

I'll  have  no  vagabonds  here  !  I  know  how  to 
treat  gentry  of  that  sort,  whether  their  faces  are 
black  or  white. 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  "  I  meant  no  harm  by  coming 
here,  and  I  do  not  know  how  I  have  deserved 
this  extraordinary  outburst.  Allow  me  to  ob- 
serve, however,  that  you  are  still  covering  me 
with  your  pistol,  and  that,  as  your  hand  is  rather 
tremulous,  it  is  more  than  possible  that  it  may 
g*o  off.  If  you  don't  turn  the  muzzle  down  i 
shall  be  compelled  in  self-defence  to  strike  you 
over  the  wrist  with  my  stick." 

"  What  the  devil  brought  you  here,  then  ?" 
he  asked,  in  a  more  composed  voice,  putting  his 
weapon  back  into  his  bosom.  "  Can't  a  gentle- 
man live  quietly  without  your  coming  to  peep 
and  pry  ?  Have  you  no  business  of  your  own  to 
look  after,  eh?  And  my  daughter?  how  came 
you  to  know  anything  of  her  ?  and  what  have 
you  been  trying  to  squeeze  out  of  her?  it 
wasn't  chance  that  brought  you  here." 

"  No,"  said  I,  boldly,  "  it  was  not  chance 
which  brought  me  here.  I  have  had  several 
opportunities  of  seeing  your  daughter  and  of 
appreciating  her  many  noble  qualities.  We  are 
engaged  to  be  married  to  each  other,  and  Icame 
up  with  the  express  intention  of  seeing  her." 


6o 

Instead  of  blazing  into  a  fury,  as  I  had 
expected,  the  general  gave  a  long  whistle  ot 
astonishment,  and  then  leaned  up  against  the 
railings,  laughing  softly  to  himself. 

"  English  terriers  are  fond  of  playing  with 
worms,"  he  remarked  at  last.  "  When  we  used 
to  bring  them  out  to  India  they  used  to  trot  off 
into  the  jungle  and  begin  sniffing  at  what  they 
imagined  to  be  worms  there.  But  the  worm 
turned  out  to  be  a  venomous  snake,  and  so  poor 
doggy  paid  the  penalty.  I  think  you'll  find 
yourself  in  a  somewhat  analogous  position  if  YOU 
don't  look  out." 

"  You  surely  don't  mean  to  cast  an  aspersion 
upon  your  own  daughter?"  I  said, .flushing  with 
indignation. 

"  Oh,  Gabriel  is  all  right,"  he  answered,  care- 
lessly. "  Our  family  is  not  exactly  one,  however, 
which  I  should  recommend  a  young  tellow  to 
marry  into.  And  pray  how  is  it  that  I  was  not 
informed  of  this  snug  little  arrangement  of 
yours  ?'* 

"  We  were  afraid,  sir,  that  you  might  separ- 
ate us,"  I  replied,  feeling  that  perfect  candor 
was  the  best  policy  under  the  circumstances. 
•'  It  is  possible  that  we  were  mistaken.  Before 
coming  to  any  fina'  decision  I  implore  you  to 


01 

remember  that  the  happiness  of  both  of  us  is  at 
stake.  It  is  in  your  power  to  divide  our  bodies, 
but  our  souls  shall  be  forever  united." 

"  My  good  fellow,"  said  the  general,  in  a  not 
unkindly  tone,  "  you  don't  know  what  you  are 
asking  for.  There  is  a  gulf  between  you  and  any 
one  of  the  blood  of  Heatherstone  which  can 
never  be  bridged  over."  All  trace  of  anger  had 
Vanished  now  from  his  manner,  and  given  place 
to  an  air  of  somewhat  contemptuous  amuse. 
ment. 

My  family  pride  took  fire  at  his  words.  "  The 
gulf  may  be  less  than  you  imagine,"  I  said, 
coldly.  "  We  are  not  clodhoppers  because  we 
live  in  this  out-of-the-way  place.  I  am  of  noble 
descent  on  one  side,  and  my  mother  was  a 
Buchan  of  Buchan.  I  assure  you  that  there  is 
no  such  disparity  between  us  as  you  seem  to 
Imagine." 

"  You  misunderstand  me,"  the  general  an- 
Bwered.  "It  is  on  our  side  that  the  disparity 
lies.  There  are  reasons  why  my  daughter 
Gabriel  should  live  and  die  single.  It  would 
not  be  to  your  advantage  to  marry  her." 

"  But  surely,  sir,"  I  persisted,  "  I  am  the  best 
judge  of  my  own  interests  and  advantages. 
Since  you  take  this  ground  all  becomes  easy; 


62 

for  I  do  assure  you  that  the  one  interest  which 
overrides  all  others  is  that  I  should  have  the 
woman  I  love  for  my  wife.  If  this  is  your  only 
objection  to  our  match,  you  may  surely  give  us 
your  consent,  for  any  danger  or  trial  which  I  may 
incur  in  marrying  Gabriel  will  not  weigh  with 
me  one  featherweight." 

"  Here's  a  young  bantam  !"  exclaimed  the  old 
soldier,  smiling  at  my  warmth.  "  It's  easy  to 
defy  danger  when  you  don't  know  what  the 
danger  is." 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?"  I  asked,  hotly.  "  There  is 
no  earthly  peril  that  will  drive  me  from  Gabriel's 
side.  Let  me  know  what  it  is  and  test  me." 

"  No,  no.  That  would  never  do,"  he  answered 
with  a  sigh ;  and  then,  thoughtfully,  as  if  speak- 
ing his  mind  aloud:  "He  has  plenty  of  pluck, 
and  is  a  well-grown  lad,  too.  We  might  do 
worse  than  make  use  of  him."  He  went  on 
I  mumbling  to  himself  with  a  vacant  stare  in  his 
1  eyes  as  if  he  had  forgotten  my  presence. 

"Look  here,  West,"  he  said,  presently. 
"  You'll  excuse  me  if  I  spoke  hastily  a  little  time 
ago.  It  is  the  second  time  that  I  have  had 
occasion  to  apologize  to  you  for  the  same 
offense.  It  shan't  occur  again.  I  am  rather 
over-particular,  uo  doubt,  in  my  desire  for  com. 


63 

plete  isolation;  but  I  have  good  reasons  fof 
insisting  on  the  point.  Rightly  or  wrongly,  I 
have  got  it  into  my  head  that  some  day  there 
might  be  an  organized  raid  upon  my  grounds. 
If  anything  of  the  sort  should  occur  I  suppose  I 
might  reckon  upon  your  assistance?" 

"  With  all  my  heart." 

"  So  that  if  ever  you  got  a  message  such  as 
'Come  up,'  or  even  simply  'Cloomber!'  you 
would  know  that  it  was  an  appeal  for  help  and 
would  hurry  up  immediately,  even  if  it  were  in 
the  dead  of  the  night  ?" 

"  Most  certainly  I  should,"  I  answered.  "  But 
might  I  ask  you  what  the  nature  of  the  danger 
is  which  you  apprehend?" 

"  There  would  be  nothing  gained  by  your 
knowing.  Indeed,  you  would  hardly  under- 
stand it  if  I  told  you.  I  must  bid  you  good-day 
now,  for  I  have  stayed  with  you  too  long.  Re. 
member,  I  count  upon  you  as  one  of  the  Cloom. 
ber  garrison  now." 

"  One  other  thing,  sir,"  I  said,  hurriedly,  for 
he  was  turning  away  ;  "  I  hope  that  you  will  not 
be  angry  with  your  daughter  for  anything  which 
I  have  told  you.  It  was  for  my  sake  that  she 
kept  it  all  secret  from  you." 

41  All  right,"  he  said  »»»*h  his  cold,  inscrutable 


64 

smile.  "  I  am  not  such  an  ogre  in  the  bosom  of 
my  family  as  you  seem  to  think.  As  to  this 
marriage  question,  I  should  advise  you  as  a 
friend  to  let  it  drop  altogether,  but  if  that  is  im- 
possible I  must  insist  that  it  stand  over  com- 
pletely for  the  present.  It  is  impossible  to  say 
what  unexpected  turn  events  may  take.  Good- 
bye  1"  He  plunged  into  the  wood  and  was 
quickly  out  of  sight  among  the  dense  planta- 
tion. 

Thus  ended  this  extraordinary  interview,  in 
which  this  strange  man  had  begun  by  pointing 
a  loaded  pistol  at  my  breast  and  had  ended  by 
partially  acknowledging  the  possibility  of  my 
becoming  his  future  son-in-law.  I  hardly  knew 
whether  to  be  cast  down  or  elated  over  it.  On 
the  one  hand,  he  was  likely,  by  keeping  a  closer 
watch  over  his  daughter,  to  prevent  us  from 
communicating  as  freely  as  we  had  done  hith- 
erto. Against  this  there  was  the  advantage  of 
having  obtained  an  implied  consent  to  the 
renewal  of  my  suit  at  some  future  date.  On  the 
whole,  I  came  to  the  conclusion,  as  I  walked 
thoughtfully  home,  that  I  had  improved  my  posi- 
tion by  the  incident. 

But  this  danger— this  shadowy,  unspeakable 
danger — which  appeared  to  rise  up  at  «very 


turn,  and  to  hang  day  and  night  over  the  towers 
of  Cloomber !  Rack  my  brain  as  I  would  I 
could  not  conjure  up  any  solution  to  the  prob- 
lem which  was  not  puerile  and  inadequate.  One 
fact  struck  me  as  being  significant.  Both  the 
father  and  the  son  had  assured  me,  independently 
of  each  other,  that  if  I  were  told  whai  the  peril 
was,  I  would  hardly  realize  its  significance. 
How  strange  and  bizarre  must  the  fear  be 
which  can  scarce  be  expressed  in  intelligible 
language.  I  held  up  my  hand  in  the  darkness 
before  I  turned  to  sleep  that  night,  and  I  swore 
that  no  power  of  man  or  devil  should  ever 
weaken  my  love  for  the  woman  whose  pure  heart 
I  had  had  the  good  fortune  to  win. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OF  CORPORAL  RUFUS  SMITH  AND  HIS  COMING  TC 
CLOOMBER. 

IN  making  this  statement  I  have  purposel) 
couched  it  in  bald  and  simple  language,  for  fear 
I  should  be  accused  of  coloring  my  narrative  for 
the  sake  of  effect.  If,  however,  I  have  told  my 
story  with  any  approach  to  realism,  the  reader 
will  understand  me  when  I  say  that  by  this  time 
the  succession  of  dramatic  incidents  which  had 
occurred  had  arrested  my  attention  and  excited 
my  imagination  to  the  exclusion  of  all  minor 
topics.  How  could  I  plod  through  the  dull 
routine  of  an  agent's  work,  or  interest  myself  in 
the  thatch  of  this  tenant's  bothy  or  the  sails  of 
that  one's  boat,  when  my  mind  was  taken  up  by 
the  chain  of  events  which  I  have  described,  and 
was  still  busy  seeking  an  explanation  for  them? 
Go  where  I  would  over  the  country-side  I  could 
see  the  square,  white  tower  shooting  out  from 
among  the  trees,  and  beneath  that  tower  this 
ill-fated  family  were  watching  and  waiting,  wait- 
ing and  watching— and  for  what  ?  That  was  still 


the  question  which  stood  like  an  impassable 
barrier  at  the  end  of  every  train  of  thought. 
Regarded  merely  as  an  abstract  problem,  this 
mystery  of  the  Heatherstone  family  had  a  lurid 
fascination  about  it,  but  when  the  woman  whom 
I  loved  a  thousandfold  better  than  I  did  myself 
proved  to  be  so  deeply  interested  in  the  solution, 
I  felt  that  it  was  impossible  to  turn  my  thoughts 
to  anything  else  until  it  had  been  finally  cleared 
up. 

My  good  father  had  received  a  letter  from  the 
laird,  dated  from  Naples,  which  told  us  that  he 
had  derived  much  benefit  from  the  change,  and 
that  he  had  no  intention  of  returning  to  Scotland 
for  some  time.  This  was  satisfactory  to  all  of 
us,  for  my  father  had  found  Branksome  such  au 
excellent  place  for  study  that  it  would  have  been 
a  sore  trial  to  him  to  return  to  the  noise  and 
tumult  of  a  city.  As  to  my  dear  sister  and  my- 
self, there  were,  as  I  have  shown,  stronger 
reasons  still  to  make  us  love  the  Wigtownshire 
moors. 

In  spite  of  my  interview  with  the  general — or 
perhaps  I  might  say  on  account  of  it — I  took 
occasion  at  least  twice  a  day  to  walk  towards 
Cloomber  and  satisfy  myself  that  all  was  well 
there.  He  had  begun  by  resenting  my  intrusion, 


68 

but  he  had  ended  by  taking  me  into  a  sort  of 
half  confidence,  and  even  by  asking  my  assist- 
ance, so  I  felt  that  I  stood  upon  a  different  foot- 
ing with  him  than  I  had  done  formerly,  and  that 
he  was  less  likely  to  be  annoyed  by  my  presence. 
Indeed,  I  met  him  pacing  round  the  inclosure  a 
few  days  afterwards,  and  his  manner  towards  me 
was  civil,  though  he  made  no  allusion  to  our 
former  conversation.  He  appeared  to  be  still  in 
an  extreme  state  of  nervousness,  starting  from 
time  to  time,  and  gazing  furtively  about  him.  I 
hoped  that  his  daughter  was  right  in  naming  the 
fifth  of  October  as  the  turning-point  of  his  com- 
plaint, for  it  was  evident  to  me,  as  I  looked  at 
his  gleaming  eyes  and  quivering  hands,  that  a 
man  could  not  live  long  in  such  a  state  of  nervous 
tension. 

I  found  on  examination  that  he  had  had  the 
loose  rails  securely  fastened  so  as  to  block  up 
our  former  trysting-place,  and  though  I  prowled 
round  the  whole  long  line  of  fencing,  I  was 
unable  to  find  any  other  place  where  an  entrance 
could  be  effected.  Here  and  there  between 
chinks  of  the  barrier  I  could  catch  glimpses  of 
the  Hall,  and  once  I  saw  a  rough-looking,  middle- 
aged  man  standing  at  a  window  at  the  lower 
floor,  whom  I  supposed  to  be  Israel  Stakes,  the 


coachman.  There  was  no  sign,  however,  ot 
Gabriel  or  of  Mordaunt,  and  their  absence 
alarmed  me.  I  was  convinced  that,  unless  they 
were  under  some  restraint,  they  would  have 
managed  to  communicate  with  my  sister  or  my- 
self.  My  fears  became  more  and  more  acute  as 
day  followed  drfy  without  our  seeing  or  hearing 
anything  of  them. 

One  morning — it  was  the  second  day  of  Octo- 
ber— I  was  walking  towards  the  Hall,  hoping 
that  I  might  be  fortunate  enough  to  learn  some 
news  of  my  darling,  when  I  observed  a  man 
perched  upon  a  stone  at  the  side  of  the  road. 
As  I  came  nearer  to  him  I  could  see  that  he  was 
a  stranger,  and  from  his  dusty  clothes  and  dilap- 
idated appearance  he  seemed  to  have  come  from 
a  distance.  He  had  a  great  hunch  of  bread  on 
his  knee  and  a  clasp  knife  in  his  hand,  but  he 
had  apparently  just  finished  his  breakfast,  for  he 
brushed  the  crumbs  off  his  lap  and  rose  to  his 
feet  when  he  perceived  me.  Noticing  the  great 
height  of  the  fellow,  and  that  he  still  held  his 
weapon,  I  kept  well  to  the  other  side  of  the  road, 
for  I  knew  that  destitution  makes  men  desperate 
and  that  the  chain  which  glittered  on  my  waist- 
coat might  be  too  great  a  temptation  to  him  upon 
this  lonely  highway.  I  was  confirmed  in  my 


TO 

fears  when  I  saw  him  step  out  into  the  centre  of 
the  road  and  bar  my  progress. 

"  Well,  my  lad,"  I  said,  affecting  an  ease  which 
I  by  no  means  felt,  "  what  can  I  do  for  you  this 
morning?" 

The  fellow's  face  was  the  color  of  mahogany 
with  exposure  to  the  weather,  and  he  had  a 
deep  scar  from  the  corner  of  his  mouth  to  his 
ear,  which  by  no  means  improved  his  appear- 
ance.  His  hair  was  grizzled,  but  his  figure  was 
stalwart,  and  his  fur  cap  was  cocked  on  one  side 
so  as  to  give  him  a  rakish,  semi-military  appear- 
ance. Altogether,  he  gave  me  the  impression  of 
being  one  of  the  most  dangerous  types  of  tramp 
that  I  had  ever  fallen  in  with. 

Instead  of  replying  to  my  question  he  eyed 
me  for  some  time  in  silence,  with  sullen,  yellow- 
shot  eyes,  and  then  closed  his  knife  with  a  loud 
snick.  "You're  not  a  beak,"  he  said;  "too 
young  for  that,  I  guess.  They  had  me  in  chokey 
at  Paisley,  and  they  had  me  in  chokey  at  Wig- 
town, but  by  the  living  thunder  if  another  of 
them  lays  a  hand  on  me  I'll  make  him  remem- 
ber  Corporai  Rufus  Smith  !  It's  a  darned  fine 
country  this,  where  they  won't  give  a  man  work 
and  then  lay  him  by  the  heels  for  having  no  vis- 
ible means  of  subsistence.  * 


71 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  an  old  soldier  so  reduced,** 
said  I.  "  What  corps  did  you  serve  in  ?'* 

"H  Battery,  Royal  Horse  Artillery.  Bad 
cess  to  the  service  and  every  one  in  it !  Here  I 
am  nigh  sixty  years  of  age,  with  a  beggarly  pen- 
sion of  thirty-eight  pound  ten — not  enough  to 
keep  me  in  beer  and  baccy." 

"  I  should  have  thought  thirty-eight  pound  ten 
a  year  would  have  been  a  nice  help  to  you  in 
your  old  age,"  I  remarked. 

"Would  you  though?"  he  answered  with  a 
sneer,  pushing  his  weather-beaten  face  forward 
until  it  was  within  a  foot  of  my  own.  "  How 
much  d'ye  think  that  slash  with  a  tulwar  is 
worth  ?  and  my  foot  with  all  the  bones  rattling 
about  like  a  bagful  of  dice?  What's  that  worth, 
eh  ?  And  a  liver  like  a  sponge,  and  ague  when- 
ever the  wind  comes  round  to  the  east — what's 
the  market  value  of  that  ?  Would  you  take  the 
lot  for  a  dirty  forty  pound  a  year — would  you 
now  ?" 

"  We  are  poor  folk  in  this  part  of  the  country," 
I  answered.  "  You  would  pass  for  a  rich  man 
down  here." 

"They  are  simple  folk  and  they  have  simple 
tastes,"  said  he,  drawing  a  black  pipe  from  his 
pocket  and  stuffing  it  with  tobacco.  "  I  know 


72 

what  good  living  is,  and  while  I  have  a  shilling 
in  my  pocket  I  like  to  spend  it  as  a  shilling  should 
be  spent.  I've  fought  for  my  country,  and  my 
country  has  done  darned  little  for  me.  I'll  go  to 
the  Rooshians,  so  help  me !  I  could  show  them 
how  to  cross  the  Himalayas,  so  that  it  would 
puzzle  either  Afghans  or  British  to  stop  'em. 
What's  that  secret  worth  in  St.  Petersburg,  I 
wonder !" 

"  I'm  ashamed  to  hear  an  old  soldier  speak  so, 
even  in  jest,"  said  I  sternly. 

"Jest,  indeed!"  he  cried,  with  a  great  oath. 
"  I'd  have  done  it  years  ago,  if  the  Rooshians 
had  been  game  to  take  it  up.  Skobeloff  was  the 
best  of  the  bunch,  but  he's  been  snuffed  out. 
However,  that's  neither  here  nor  there.  What 
I  want  to  ask  you  is  whether  you've  ever 
heard  anything  in  this  quarter  of  a  man  called 
Heatherstone,  the  same  who  used  to  be  colonel 
of  the  4ist  Bengaless?  They  told  me  at  Wig- 
town that  he  lived  somewhere  down  this  way." 

"  He  lives  in  that  large  house  over  there," 
said  I,  pointing  to  Cloomber  Tower.  "You'll 
find  the  avenue  gate  a  little  way  down  the  road, 
but  the  general  isn't  over  fond  of  visitors." 

The  last  part  of  my  speech  was  lost  upon 
Corporal  Rufus  Smith  for  the  instant  that  I 


pointed  out  the  gate  he  set  off  hopping  down  the 
road.  His  mode  of  progression  was  the  most 
singular  which  I  have  ever  seen,  for  he  would 
only  put  his  right  foot  to  the  ground  once  in 
every  half-dozen  strides,  while  he  worked  so, 
hard  and  attained  such  a  momentum  with  the 
other  limb  that  he  got  over  the  ground  at  an 
astonishing  speed.  I  was  so  surprised  that  I 
stood  in  the  roadway  gazing  after  his  hulking 
figure  until  the  thought  suddenly  struck  me  that 
some  serious  result  might  come  from  a  meeting 
between  a  man  of  such  blunt  speech  and  the 
choleric  hot-headed  general.  I  therefore  fol- 
lowed him  as  he  hopped  along  like  some  great, 
clumsy  bird,  and  overtook  him  at  the  avenue 
gate,  where  he  stood  grasping  the  ironwork  and 
peering  through  at  the  dark  carriage  drive 
beyond. 

"  He's  a  sly  old  fox,**  he  said,  looking  round  at 
me  and  nodding  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the 
Hall.  "  He's  a  deep  old  dog.  And  that's  his 
bungalow,  is  it,  among  the  trees?" 

"  That  is  his  house,"  I  answered ;  "  but  I 
should  advise  you  to  keep  a  more  civil  tongue 
in  your  head  if  you  intend  to  speak  with  the 
general.  He  is  not  a  man  to  stand  any  non- 
sense." 


94 

"  Right  you  are.  He  was  always  a  hard  nut 
to  crack.  But  isn't  this  him  coming  down  the 
avenue  ?" 

I  looked  through  the  gate  and  saw  that  it  was 
indeed  the  general,  who  having  either  seen  us  or 
been  attracted  by  our  voices,  was  hurrying 
down  towards  us.  As  he  advanced  he  would 
stop  from  time  to  time  and  peer  at  us  through 
the  dark  shadow  thrown  by  the  trees,  as  if  he 
were  irresolute  whether  to  come  on  or  no. 

"  He's  reconnoitering  I"  whispered  my  com- 
panion with  a  hoarse  chuckle.  "  He's  afraid — 
and  I  know  what  he's  afraid  of.  He  won't  ba 
caught  in  a  trap  if  he  can  help  it,  the  old  un  J 
He's  about  as  fly  as  they  make  'em,  you  bet !" 
Then  suddenly  standing  on  his  tiptoes  and  wav- 
ing his  hand  through  the  bars  of  the  gate,  he 
shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  Come  on,  my 
gallant  commandant  1  Come  on!  The  coast's 
clear,  and  no  enemy  in  sight." 

This  familiar  address  had  the  effect  of  reassur. 
ing  the  general,  for  he  came  right  for  us,  though 
1  could  tell  by  his  heightened  color  that  his 
temper  was  at  boiling  point.  "  What,  you  here, 
Mr.  West?"  he  said,  as  his  eye  fell  upon  me. 
"  What  is  it  you  want,  and  why  have  you 
brought  this  fellow  with  you  ?" 


75 

"  I  have  not  brought  him  with  me,  sir,**  ) 
answered,  feeling  rather  disgusted  at  being 
made  responsible  for  the  presence  of  the  disrep 
utable-looking  vagabond  beside  me.  "  I  found 
him  on  the  road  here,  and  he  desired  to  b< 
directed  to  you,  so  I  showed  him  the  way.  1 
know  nothing  of  him  myself." 

"What  do  you  want  with  me,  then?"  th» 
general  asked  sternly,  turning  to  my  compan- 
ion. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  the  ex-corporal, 
speaking  in  a  whining  voice,  and  touching  his 
moleskin  cap  with  a  humility  which  contrasted 
strangely  with  the  previous  rough  independence 
of  his  bearing,  "  I'm  an  old  gunner  in  the  Queen's 
service,  sir,  and  knowing  your  name  by  hearing 
it  in  India  I  thought  that  maybe  you  would 
take  me  as  your  groom  or  gardener,  or  give  me 
any  other  place  as  happened  to  be  vacant." 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  do  anything  for  you, 
my  man,"  the  old  soldier  answered,  impassively. 

"Then  you'll  give  me  a  little  just  to  help  me 
on  my  way,  sir,"  said  the  cringing  mendicant. 
"  You  won't  see  an  old  comrade  go  to  the  bad 
for  the  sake  of  a  few  rupees.  I  was  with  Sale's 
brigade  in  the  Passes,  sir,  and  I  was  at  the  second 
taking  of  CabuL" 


General  Heatherstone  looked  keenly  at  the 
supplicant,  but  was  silent  to  his  appeal. 

"  I  was  in  Ghuznee  with  you  when  the  walls 
were  all  shook  down  by  A«*  earthquake,  and 
when  we  found  forty  thousand  Afghans  within 
gunshot  of  us.  You  ask  me  about  it,  and  you'll 
see  whether  I'm  lying  or  not.  We  went  through 
all  this  when  we  were  young,  and  now  that  we 
are  old  you  are  to  live  in  a  fine  bungalow,  and 
I  am  to  starve  by  the  roadside.  It  don't  seem 
to  me  to  be  fair." 

"  You  are  an  impertinent  scoundrel,"  said  the 
general.  "  If  you  had  been  a  good  soldier  you 
would  never  need  to  ask  for  help.  I  shall  not 
give  you  a  farthing." 

41  One  word  more,  sir,"  cried  the  tramp,  for 
the  other  was  turning  away  ;  "  I've  been  in  the 
Tarada  Pass." 

The  old  soilder  sprang  round  as  if  the  words 
had  been  a  pistol-shot.  "  What — what  d'ye 
mean?"  he  stammered. 

"  I've   been  in    the   Tarada    Pass,   sir,  and    I 
knew  a  man  there  called  Ghoolab  Shah." 
,  These  last  words  were  hissed  out  in  an  under- 
tone,  and  a  malicious  grin  overspread  the  face  of 
the  speaker. 

Their  effect  upon  the  general  was  extraordin- 


77 

ary.  He  fairly  staggered  back  from  the  gate, 
way,  and  his  yellow  countenance  blanched  to  a 
livid,  mottled  grey.  For  a  moment  he  was  too 
overcome  to  speak.  At  last  he  gasped  out, 
"  Ghoolab  Shah ! — who  are  you  who  know 
Ghoolab  Shah  ?" 

"Take  another  look,"  said  the  tramp;  "your 
sight  is  not  as  keen  as  it  was  forty  years  ago." 

The  general  took  a  long,  earnest  look  at  the  un- 
kempt wanderer  in  front  of  him,  and  as  he  gazed 
I  saw  the  light  of  recognition  spring  up  in  his 
eyes.  "  God  bless  my  soul !"  he  cried.  "  Why, 
it's  Corporal  Rufus  Smith." 

"You've  come  on  it  at  last,"  said  the  other, 
chuckling  to  himself.  "  I  was  wondering  how 
long  it  would  be  before  you  knew  me.  And  first 
of  all  just  unlock  this  gate,  will  you?  It's  hard 
to  talk  through  a  grating.  It's  too  much  like 
ten  minutes  with  a  visitor  in  the  cells." 

The  general,  whose  face  still  bore  evidences  of 
his  agitation,  undid  the  bolts  with  nervous,  trem- 
bling fingers.  The  recognition  of  Corporal 
Rufus  Smith  had,  I  fancied,  been  a  relief  to  him, 
and  yet  he  plainly  showed  by  his  manner  that  he 
regarded  his  presence  as  by  no  means  an  un- 
mixed blessing. 

"  Why,  corporal,"  he  said,  as  the  gate  swung 


78 

open, "  I  have  often  wondered  whether  you  wero 
dead  or  alive,  but  I  never  expected  to  see  you 
again.  How  have  you  been  all  these  long 
years  ?" 

"How  have  I  been?"  the  corporal  answered 
gruffly.  "  Why  I  have  been  drunk  for  the  most 
part.  When  I  draw  my  money  I  lay  it  out  in 
liquor,  and  as  long  as  that  lasts  I  get  some  peace 
in  life.  When  I'm  cleaned  out  I  go  upon  a 
tramp,  partly  in  the  hope  of  picking  up  the  price 
of  a  dram,  and  partly  in  order  to  look  for  you." 

"  You'll  excuse  us  talking  about  these  private 
matters,  West,"  the  general  said,  looking  round 
at  me,  for  I  was  beginning  to  move  away. 
"  Don't  leave  us.  You  know  something  of  this 
matter  already,  and  may  find  yourself  entirely  in 
the  swim  with  us  some  of  these  days." 

Corporal  Rufus  Smith  looked  round  at  me  in 
blank  astonishment.  "  In  the  swim  with  us  !'* 
he  said.  "  However  did  he  get  there?" 

"  Voluntarily,  voluntarily,"  the  general  ex- 
plained, hurriedly  sinking  his  voice.  "  He  is«a 
neighbor  of  mine,  and  he  has  volunteered  his 
help  in  case  I  should  ever  need  it." 

This  explanation  seemed,  if  anything,  to  in- 
crease  the  big  stranger's  surprise.  "  Well,  if 
that  don't  lick  cock-fighting!"  he  exclaimed,  con- 


79 

templating  me  with  admiration.  "  1  never  heard 
tell  of  such  a  thing." 

"  And  now  that  you  have  found  me,  Corporal 
Smith,"  said  the  tenant  of  Cloomber,  "  what  is  it 
that  you  want  of  me?" 

"  Why,  everything  ;  I  want  a  roof  to  cover 
me,  and  clothes  to  wear,  and  food  to  eat,  and 
above  all,  brandy  to  drink." 

w  Well,  I'll  take  you  in  and  do  what  I  can  for 
you,"  said  the  general,  slowly.  "  But  look  here, 
Smith,  we  must  have  discipline.  I'm  the  gen. 
eral  and  you  are  the  corporal;  I  am  the  master 
and  you  are  the  man.  Now  don't  let  me  have  to 
remind  you  of  that  again." 

The  tramp  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height 
and  raised  his  right  hand  with  the  palm  forward 
in  a  military  salute. 

"I  can  take  you  on  as  gardener  and  get  rid  of 
the  fellc  tf  I  have  got.  As  to  brandy,  you  shall 
have  an  allowance  and  no  more.  We  are  not 
deep  drinkers  at  the  Hall." 

"  Don't  you  take  opium,  or  brandy,  or  nothing 
yourself,  sir?"  asked  Corporal  Rufus  Smith. 

"Nothing,"  the  general  said,  firmly. 

"  Well,  all  I  can  say  is,  that  you've  got  more 
nerve  and  pluck  than  I  shall  ever  have.  I  don't 
wonder  now  at  your  winning  that  cross  in  the 


8o 

Mutiny.  If  I  was  to  go  on  listening  night  after 
night  to  them  things  without  ever  taking  a  drop 
of  something  to  cheer  my  heart — why,  it  would 
about  drive  me  silly." 

General  Heatherstone  put  his  hand  up,  as 
though  afraid  that  his  companion  might  say  too 
much.  "  I  must  thank  you,  Mr.  West,"  he  said, 
"  for  having  shown  this  man  my  door.  I  would 
not  willingly  allow  an  old  comrade,  however 
humble,  to  go  to  the  bad,  and  if  I  did  not  ac- 
knowledge his  claim  more  readily  it  was  simply 
because  I  had  my  doubts  as  to  whether  he  was 
really  what  he  represented  himself.  Just  walk 
up  to  the  Hall,  corporal,  and  I  shall  follow  you 
in  a  minute." 

"  Poor  devil !"  he  continued,  as  he  watched  the 
new-comer  hobbling  up  the  avenue  in  the  un. 
gainly  manner  which  I  have  described.  "  He 
got  a  64-pound  shot  on  his  foot,  and  it  crushed 
the  bones,  but  the  obstinate  fool  would  not  let 
the  doctors  take  it  off.  I  remember  him  now  as 
a  smart  young  soldier  in  Afghanistan.  He  and 
I  were  associated  in  some  queer  adventures, 
which  I  may  tell  you  of  some  day,  and  I  natu- 
rally  feel  sympathy  towards  him,  and  would  be. 
friend  him.  Did  he  tell  you  anything  about  mo 
before  I  came  ?" 


81 

*  Not  a  word,"  I  replied. 

"Oh,"  said  the  general,  carelessly,  but  with 
an  evident  expression  of  relief.  "  I  thought  per. 
haps  he  might  have  said  something  of  old  times. 
Well,  I  must  go  and  look  after  him,  or  the  ser- 
vants will  be  frightened,  for  he  isn't  a  beauty  to 
look  at.  Good-bye  !"  With  a  wave  of  the  hand 
the  old  man  turned  away  from  me  and  hurried 
up  the  drive  after  this  unexpected  addition  to 
his  household,  while  I  strolled  on  round  the  high 
black  paling,  peering  through  every  chink  be- 
tween  the  planks,  but  without  seeing  a  trace 
either  of  Mordaunt  or  of  his  sister. 

I  have  now  brought  this  statement  down  to 
the  coming  of  Corporal  Rufus  Smith,  which  will 
prove  to  be  the  beginning  of  the  end.  I  have 
set  down  soberly  and  in  order  the  events  which 
brought  us  to  Wigtownshire,  the  arrival  of  the 
Heatherstones  at  Cloomber,  and  many  strange 
incidents  which  excited  first  our  curiosity  and 
finally  our  intense  interest  in  that  family,  and  I 
have  briefly  touched  upon  the  circumstances 
which  brought  my  sister  and  myself  into  a  closer 
and  more  personal  relationship  with  them.  I 
think  that  there  cannot  be  a  better  moment  than 
this  to  hand  the  narrative  over  to  those  who  had 
means  <4  knowing  something  of  |P»hat  was  going 


82 

on  inside  Cloomber  during  the  months  that  I 
was  observing  it  from  without.  The  evidence 
of  the  two  individuals  whose  statements  I  shall 
now  lay  before  the  reader,  does  not,  it  is  true, 
amount  to  very  much,  but  there  are  a  few  nota- 
ble facts  contained  in  It,  and  it  corroborates  and 
amplifies  my  own  experience.  Israel  Stakes,  the 
coachman,  proved  to  be  unable  to  read  or  write, 
but  Mr.  Mathew  Clark,  the  Presbyterian  minis- 
ter at  Stoneykirk,  has  copied  down  his  depos- 
ition, duly  attested  by  the  cross  set  opposite 
his  name.  The  good  clergyman  has,  I  fancy, 
put  some  slight  polish  upon  the  narrator's  story, 
which  I  rather  regret,  as  it  might  have  been 
more  interesting,  if  less  intelligible,  when  re- 
ported verbatim.  It  still  preserves,  however, 
considerable  traces  of  Israel's  individuality,  and 
may  be  regarded  as  an  exact  record  of  what  he 
saw  and  did  while  in  General  Heatherstone's 
service. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

STATEMENT  OF  ISRAEL  STAKES. 

\1i**>ied  and  authenticated  by  the  Reverend  Mathew  CfarJk, 
Presbyterian  minister  of  Stoneykirk,  in  Wigtownshire.] 

MAISTER  FOTHERGILL  WEST  and  the  meenister 
say  that  I  maun  tell  all  I  can  aboot  General 
Heatherstone  and  his  hoose,  but  that  I  maunna* 
say  muckle  aboot  mysel'  because  the  readers 
wouldna'  care  to  hear  aboot  me  or  my  affairs. 
£  am  na  sae  sure  o'  that,  for  the  Stakes  is  a 
family  weel  kenned  and  respecked  on  baith  sides 
o'  the  border,  and  there's  mony  in  Nithsdale  and 
Annendale  as  would  be  gey  pleased  to  hear 
news  o'  the  son  o*  Archie  Stakes,  o'  Ecclefechan, 
I  maun  e'en  do  as  I'm  tauld,  however,  for  Mr. 
West's  sake,  hoping  he'll  no  forget  me  when  I 
chance  to  hae  a  favor  tae  ask.*  I  am  no  able  tae 
write  mysel'  because  my  feyther  sent  me  oot  to 
scare  craws  instead  o'  sendin*  me  tae  school, 
but  on  the  ither  hond  he  brought  me  up  in  the 

*  The  old  rascal  was  well  paid  for  his  trouble,  so  he  nee** 
not  have  made  such  a  favor  of  it. — J.  F.  W. 


preenciples  and  practise  o*  the  real  kirk  o*  the 
Covenant,  for  which  may  the  Lord  be  praised  ! 

It  was  last  May  twel'month  that  the  factor 
body,  Maister  McNeil,  cam'  ower  tae  me  in  the 
street  and  speered  whether  I  was  in  want  o'  a 
place  as  a  coachman  and  gaird'ner.  As  it  fell 
oot  I  chanced  tae  be  on  the  look  oot  for  some- 
thing o'  the  sort  mysel'  at  the  time,  but  I  wasna* 
ower  quick  to  let  him  see  that  I  wanted  it. 

"  Ye  can  tak*  it  or  leave  it,"  says  he  sharp-like. 
"  It's  a  guid  place,  and  there's  many  would  be 
glad  o't.  If  ye  want  it  ye  can  come  up  tae  my 
office  at  twa  the  morn  and  put  your  ain  ques- 
tions tae  the  gentleman." 

That  was  a'  I  could  get  frae  him,  for  he's  a 
close  man  and  a  hard  one  at  a  bargain — which 
shall  profit  him  leetle  in  the  next  life,  though  he 
lay  by  a  store  o'  siller  in  this.  When  the  day 
comes  there'll  be  a  hantle  o*  factors  on  the  left 
hand  o'  the  throne  and  I  shouldna*  be  surprised 
if  Maister  McNeil  found  himsel'  amang  them. 

"  Well,  on  the  morn  I  gaed  up  to  the  office 
and  there  I  foond  the  factor  and  a  lang,  thin, 
dour  man  wi*  grey  hair  and  a  face  as  brown  and 
crinkled  as  a  walnut.  He  looked  hard  at  me  wi' 
a  pair  o'  e'en  that  glowed  ^ke  twa  spunks,  and 
then  he  says,  says  he  I 


85 

"  You've  been  born  in  these  pairts,  I  under, 
stan'?" 

"  Aye,"  says  I,  "  and  never  left  them,  neither." 

"  Never  been  oot  o'  Scotland  ?"  he  speers. 

"Twice  to  Carlisle  fair,"  says  I,  for  I  am  a 
man  wha  loves  the  truth  ;  and  besides  I  kenned 
that  the  factor  would  mind  my  gaeing  there,  for 
I  bargained  for  twa  steers  and  a  stirk  that  he 
wanted  for  the  stockin*  o*  the  Drumcleugh  Fairm. 

"  I  learn  frae  Maister  McNeil,"  says  General 
Heatherstone — for  him  it  was  and  nane  ither, 
"that  ye  canna*  write." 

0  Na,"  says  I. 

«'  Nor  read  ?" 

"  Na,"  says  I. 

"  It  seems  tae  me,"  says  he,  turnin*  tae  the 
factor,  "  that  this  is  the  vera  man  I  want.  Ser- 
vants is  spoiled  noo-a-days,"  says  he,"byower 
muckle  eddication.  I  have  nae  doobt,  Stakes, 
that  ye  will  suit  me  well  eneugh.  Ye'll  hae  three 
pund  a  month  and  a'  foond,  but  I  shall  resairve 
the  right  o'  givin*  ye  twenty-four  hoors*  notice 
at  any  time.  How  will  that  suit  ye  ?" 

"  It's  vera  different  frae  my  last  place,"  says  I, 
discontented-like.  And  the  words  were  true 
eneugh,  for  auld  Fairmer  Scott  only  gave  me  a 
pund  a  month  and  parritch  twice  a  day. 


86 

"  Weel,  weel,"  says  he,  "  maybe  we'll  gie  ye  a 
rise  if  ye  suit.  Meanwhile  here's  the  hansel 
shillin'  that  Maister  McNeil  tells  me  it's  the  cus- 
tom tae  give,  and  I  shall  expec'  tae  see  ye  at 
Cloomber  on  Monday," 

When  the  Monday  cam'  roond  I  walked  oot 
tae  Cloomber,  and  a  great  muckle  hoose  it  is  wi* 
a  hunderd  windows  or  mair,  and  space  eneugh  tae 
hide  awa'  half  the  parish.  As  tae  gairdening 
there  was  no  gairden  for  me  tae  work  at,  and 
the  horse  was  never  taken  oot  o'  the  stables  frae 
week's  end  tae  week's  end.  I  was  busy  eneugh 
for  a'  that,  for  there  was  a  deal  o'  fencing  tae  be 
put  up  and  one  thing  or  anither,  forbye  cleanin* 
the  knives  and  brushin'  the  boots  and  such-like 
jobs  as  is  mair  fit  for  an  auld  wife  than  for  a 
grown  man.  There  was  twa  beside  mysel'  in  the 
kitchen,  the  cook  Eliza,  and  Mary  the  hoose- 
maid,  puir,  benighted  things,  baith  o'  them,  wha 
had  wasted  a'  their  lives  in  Lunnon,  and  kenned 
leetle  aboot  the  warld  or  the  ways  o'  the  flesh, 
I  hadna*  muckle  tae  say  to  them  for  they  were 
simple  folk  wha  could  scarce  understand  English, 
and  had  hardly  mair  regard  for  their  ain  souls  than 
the  tods  on  the  moor.  When  the  cook  said  she 
didna'  think  muckle  o'  John  Knox,  and  the  ither 
that  she  wouldn't  gie  saxpence  tae  hear  the  dis- 


87 

course  o'  Maister  Donald  McSnaw  o*  the  true 
kirk,  I  kenned  it  was  time  for  me  tae  leave  them 
tae  a  higher  Judge. 

There  was  four  in  family,  the  general,  my 
leddy,  Maister  Mordaunt  and  Miss  Gabriel,  and 
it  wasna'  lang  before  I  found  that  a'  wasna*  just 
exactly  as  it  should  be.  My  leddy  was  as  thin 
and  as  white  as  a  ghaist,  and  many's  the  time  as 
I've  come  on  her  and  found  her  yammerin'  and 
greetin'  all  by  hersel'.  I've  watched  her  walkin' 
up  and  doon  in  the  wood  where  she  thought 
nane  could  see  her  and  wringin'  her  bonds  like 
one  demented.  There  was  the  young  gentleman 
tae  and  his  sister — they  baith  seemed  to  hae 
some  trouble  on  their  minds,  and  the  general 
maist  of  a',  for  the  ithers  were  up  ane  day  and 
down  anither ;  but  he  was  aye  the  same,  wi'a 
face  as  dour  and  sad  as  a  felon  when  he  feels  the 
tow  roond  his  neck. 

I  speered  o'  the  hussies  in  the  kitchen  whether 
they  kenned  what  was  amiss  wi'  the  family,  but 
the  cook  she  answered  me  back  that  it  wasna' 
for  her  tae  inquire  into  the  affairs  o'  her  superi- 
ors and  that  it  was  naething  to  her  as  long  as 
she  did  her  work  and  had  her  wages.  They 
were  puir,  feckless  bodies,  the  twa  o'  them,  and 
would  scarce  gie  an  answer  tae  a  ceevil  question 


88 

though  they  could  clack  loud  eneugh  when  they 
had  a  mind. 

Weel,  weeks  passed  into  months  and  a  "things 
grew  waur  instead  o'  better  in  the  Hall.  The 
general  he  got  mair  nairvous,  and  his  leddy 
mair  melancholy  every  day,  and  yet  there  wasna' 
any  quarrel  or  bickering  between  them,  for 
when  they've  been  together  in  the  breakfast 
room  I  used  often  tae  gang  round  and  prune 
the  rose  tree  alongside  o'  the  window,  so  that  I 
couldna*  help  hearin*  a  great  pairt  o'  their  con- 
versation, though  sair  against  the  grain.  When 
the  young  folk  were  wi'  them  they  would  speak 
little,  but  when  they  had  gone  they  would  aye 
talk  as  if  some  waefu'  trial  were  aboot  to  fa' 
upon  them,  though  I  could  never  gather  from 
their  words  what  it  was  that  they  were  afeard 
o'.  I've  heard  the  general  say  mair  than  ance 
that  he  wasna'  frighted  o'  death,  or  of  any 
danger  that  he  could  face  and  have  done  wi', 
but  that  it  was  the  lang,  weary  waitin*  and  the 
uncertainty  that  had  taken  a*  the  strength  and 
the  mettle  oot  o'  him.  Then  my  leddy  would 
console  him  and  tell  him  that  maybe  it  wasna' 
as  bad  as  he  thought  and  that  a'  would  come 
richt  in  the  end — but  a'  her  cheery  words  were 
clean  throwed  away  upon  him.  As  tae  th« 


89 

young  folk  I  kenned  weel  that  they  dinna*  bide 
in  the  groonds,  and  that  they  were  awa'  when- 
ever they  got  a  chance  wi'  Maister  Fothergill 
West  tae  Branksome,  but  the  general  was  too 
fu'  o'  his  ain  troubles  tae  ken  aboot  it,  and  it 
didna*  seem  tae  me  that  it  was  pairt  o*  my  du- 
ties either  as  coachman  or  as  gaird'ner  tae  mind 
the  bairns.  He  should  have  lairned  that  if  ye 
forbid  a  lassie  and  a  laddie  to  dae  anything  it's 
just  the  surest  way  o*  bringin'  it  aboot.  The 
Lord  foond  that  oot  in  the  gairdin  o'  Paradise, 
and  there's  no  muckle  change  between  the  folk 
in  Eden  and  the  folk  in  Wigtown. 

There's  ane  thing  that  I  havena*  spoke  aboot  yet, 
but  that  should  be  set  doon.  The  general  didna' 
share  his  room  wi'  his  wife,  but  slept  a'  alane  in 
a  chamber  at  the  far  end  o'  the  hoose,  as  distant 
as  possible  frae  every  one  else.  This  room  was 
aye  lockit  when  he  wasna'  in  it,  and  naebody 
was  ever  allowed  tae  gang  into  it.  He  would 
raak'  his  ain  bed,  and  red  it  up  and  dust  it  a*  by 
himself,  but  he  wouldna'  so  much  as  allow  one 
o'  us  to  set  fut  on  the  passage  that  led  tae  it. 
At  nicht  he  would  walk  a'  ower  the  hoose,  and 
he  had  lamps  hung  in  every  room  and  corner,  so 
that  no  pairt  should  be  dark.  Many's  the  time 
frae  my  room  in  the  garret  I've  heard  his  fut- 


90 

steps  comin'  and  gangin',  comin'  and  gangin', 
doun  one  passage  and  up  anither,  frae  midnight 
till  cockcraw.  It  was  weary  wark  to  lie  listenin' 
tae  his  clatter  and  wonderin'  whether  he  was 
clean  daft,  or  whether  maybe  he'd  learned  pagan 
and.  idolatrous  tricks  oot  in  India,  and  that  his 
conscience  noo  was  like  the  worm  which  gnaw- 
eth  and  dieth  not.  I'd  ha'  speered  frae  him 
whether  it  wonldna*  ease  him  to  speak  wi*  the 
holy  Donald  McSnaw,  but  it  might  ha'  been  a 
mistake,  and  the  general  wasna*  a  man  that  you'd 
care  tae  mak'  a  mistake  wi'. 

Ane  day  I  was  workin'  at  the  grass  border 
when  he  comes  up  and  he  says,  says  he,  "  Did  ye 
ever  have  occasion  tae  fire  a  pistol,  Israel?" 

"Godsakes!"  says  I,  "I  never  had  siccan  a 
thing  in  my  honds  in  my  life." 

"  Then  you'd  best  not  begfn  noo,"  says  he. 
"Every  man  tae  his  ain  weepon,"  he  says. 
"  Now  I  warrant  ye  could  dae  something  wi'  a 
guid  crab-tree  cudgel !" 

"Aye,  could  I,"  I  answered,  blithely,  "as 
weel  as  ony  lad  on  the  border." 

"This  is  a  lonely  hoose,"  says  he,  "and  we 
might  be  molested  by  some  rascals.  It's  weel 
tae  be  ready  for  whatever  may  come.  Me  and 
you  and  my  son  Mordaunt  and  Mr.  Fothergill 


9' 

West,  of  Branksome,  who  would  come  if  he  was 
required,  ought  tae  be  able  tae  show  a  bauld 
face — what  think  ye?" 

"  'Deed,  sir,"  I  says,  "  feastin*  is  aye  better 
than  fechtin' — but  if  ye'll  raise  me  a  pund  a 
month,  I'll  no  shirk  my  share  o*  either." 

"  We  won't  quarrel  ower  that,"  says  he,  and 
agreed  tae  the  extra  twal'  pund  a  year  as  easy  as 
though  it  were  as  many  bawbees.  Far  be  itfrae 
me  tae  think  evil,  but  I  couldna'  help  surmisin* 
at  the  time  that  money  that  was  so  lightly 
pairted  wi'  was  maybe  no  very  honestly  cam* 
by. 

"  I'm  no*  a  curious  or  a  pryin*  mun  by  nature, 
but  I  was  sair  puzzled  in  my  aim  mind  tae  tell 
why  it  was  that  the  general  walked  aboot  at 
nicht  and  what  kept  him  frae  his  sleep.  Well, 
a'e  day  I  was  cleanin*  down  the  passages  when 
my  e'e  fell  on  a  great  muckle  heap  o'  curtains 
and  auld  cairpets  and  sic'  like  things  that  were 
piled  away  in  a  corner,  no  vera  far  frae  the  door 
o'  the  general's  room.  A'  o'  a  sudden  a  thocht 
cam'intae  my  heid  and  I  says  tae  mysel',  "  Israel, 
laddie,"  says  I,  "  what's  tae  stop  ye  frae  hidin' 
behind  that  this  vera  nicht  and  seein'  the  auld 
mun  when  he  doesna'ken  human  e'e  is  on  him  r** 
The  mair  I  thocht  o't  the  mair  seemple  it 


92 

appeared,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  tae  put  the 
idea  intae  instant  execution. 

When  the  nicht  cam'  roond  1  tauld  the  women- 
folk that  I  was  bad  wi'  the  jawache,  and  would 
gang  airly  tae  my  room.  I  kenned  fine  when 
ance  I  got  there  that  there  was  na  chance  o'  ony 
one  disturbin*  me,  so  I  waited  a  wee  while,  and 
then  when  a'  was  quiet,  I  slippit  aft  my  boots  and 
ran  doun  the  ither  stair  until  I  cam'  tae  the  heap 
o'  auld  clothes,  and  there  I  lay  doun  wif  one  e'e 
peepin'  through  a  kink  and  a'  the  rest  covered 
up  wi'  a  great  ragged  cairpet.  There  I  bided  as 
quiet  as  a  rotten  until  the  general  passed  me  on 
his  road  tae  bed,  and  a*  was  still  in  the  house. 

My  certie !  I  wouldna'  gang  through  wi'  it 
again  for  a*  the  siller  at  the  Union  Bank  o' 
Dumfries  !  I  canna  think  o't  noo  withoot  feelin' 
cauld  a'  the  way  doun  my  back.  It  was  just 
awfu'  lyin'  there  in  the  deid  silence,  waitin'  and 
waitin'  wi'  never  a  soond  tae  break  the  monotony, 
except  the  heavy  tickin'  o'  an  auld  clock  some* 
where  doun  the  passage.  First  I  would  look 
doun  the  corridor  in  the  one  way,  and  syne  I'd 
look  doun  in  t'ither,  but  it  aye  seemed  to  me  as 
though  there  was  something  coming  up  frae  the 
side  that  I  wasna'  lookin'  at.  I  had  a  cauld  sweat 
on  my  broo  and  my  hairt  was  beatin'  twice  tae 


93 

ttka  tick  o*  the  clock,  and  what  feared  me  most 
of  a'  was  that  the  dust  frae  the  curtains  and  things 
was  aye  gettin'  doun  into  my  lungs  and  it  was  a' 
I  could  dae  tae  keep  mysel'  frae  coughin'.  God- 
sakes  !  I  wonder  my  hair  wasna'  grey  wi'  a'  that 
I  went  through  !  I  wouldna'  dae  it  again  to  be 
made  Lord  Provost  o'  Glasgie  ! 

Well,  it  may  have  been  twa  o'clock  in  the 
mornin*  or  maybe  a  little  mair,  and  I  was  just 
thinkin*  that  I  wasna'  tae  see  onything  after  a' — 
and  I  wasna'  very  sorry  neither — when  all  o'  a 
sudden  a  soond  cam'  tae  my  ears  clear  and  distinct 
through  the  stillness  o'  the  nicht.  I've  beenasked 
afore  noo  tae  describe  that  soond,  but  I've  aye 
foond  that  it's  no'  vera  easy  tae  gie  a  clear  idea 
o't,  though  it  was  unlike  any  other  soond  that 
ever  I  hearkened  tae.  It  was  a  shairp  ringin* 
clang,  like  what  could  be  caused  by  flippin'  the 
rim  o'  a  wine  glass,  but  it  was  far  higher  and 
thinner  than  that  and  had  in  it  tae  a  kind  o* 
splash,  like  the  tingle  o'  a  rain-drop  intae  a  water- 
butt.  In  my  fear  I  sat  up  amang  my  cairpets, 
like  a  puddock  among  gowan-leaves,  and  I  list- 
ened wi*  a'  my  ears.  A'  was  still  again  noo, 
except  for  the  dull  tickin'  o'  the  distant  clock. 

Suddenly  the  soond  cam*  again,  as  clear,  as 
shrill,  as  shairp  as  ever,  and  this  time  the  general 


94 

heard  It,  for  I  heard  him  gie  a  kind  o*  groan,  as 
a  tired  man  might  wha  has  been  roosed  oot  o' 
his  sleep.  He  got  up  frae  his  bed,  and  I  could 
make  oot  a  rustling  noise,  as  though  he  were 
dressin'  himsel',  and  presently  his  footfa'  as  he 
begun  tae  walk  up  and  doun  in  his  room. 
My  sakes  !  it  didna  tak'  lang  for  me  tae  drap  doun 
amang  the  cairpets  again  and  cover  mysel'ower! 
There  I  lay  tremblin*  in  every  limb,  and  sayin'  as 
mony  prayers  as  I  could  mind,  \vi*  my  e'e  still 
peepin'  through  the  keek-hole,  and  fixed  upon 
the  door  o'  the  general's  room. 

I  heard  the  rattle  o'  the  handle  presently,  and 
the  door  swung  slowly  open.  There  was  a  licht 
burnin'  in  the  room  beyond,  an'  I  could  just 
catch  a  glimpse  o'  what  seemed  tae  me  like  a  row 
o'  swords  stuck  alang  the  side  o'  the  wa',  when 
the  general  stepped  oot  and  shut  the  door  behind 
him.  He  was  dressed  in  a  dressin'  goon,  wi'  a 
red  smokin'-cap  on  his  heid,  and  a  pair  o'  slippers 
wi'  the  heels  cut  off  and  the  taes  turned  up.  For 
a  moment  it  cam*  into  my  heid  that  maybe  he  was 
walkin'  in  his  sleep,  but  as  he  cam'  towards  me  I 
could  see  the  glint  o'  the  licht  in  his  e'en,  and  his 
face  was  a'  twistin',  like  a  man  that's  in  sair  dis- 
tress o'  mind.  On  my  conscience  it  gies  me  the 
shakes  noo  wheu  I  think  o'  his  tall  figure  and  his 


95 

yelley  face  comin'sae  solemn  and  silent  doun  the 
lang,  lone  passage.  I  baud  my  breath  and  lay 
close  watchin*  him,  but  just  as  he  cam'  tae  where 
I  was  my  vera  hairt  stood  still  in  my  breast,  for 
"ting!" — lood  and  clear,  within  a  yaird  o'  me 
cam  the  ringin',  clangin'  soond  that  I  had  a'ready 
hairkened  tae.  Where  it  cam*  frae  is  mair  than  I 
can  tell,  or  what  was  the  cause  o't.  It  might  ha* 
been  that  the  general  made  it,  but  I  was  sair 
puzzled  tae  tell  hoo,  for  his  honds  were  baith 
doun  by  his  side  as  he  passed  me.  It  cam'  frae 
his  direction,  certainly,  but  it  appeared  tae  me 
tae  come  frae  ower  his  heid  ;  but  it  was  siccan  a 
thin,  eerie,  high-pitched,  uncanny  kind  o'  soond 
that  it  wasna*  easy  tae  say  just  exactly  where  it 
did  come  frae.  The  general  tak*  nae  heed  o't,  but 
walked  on  and  was  soon  ooto'sicht,  and  I  didna* 
lose  a  minute  in  creepin'oot  frae  my  hidin'placo 
and  scamperin*  awa*  back  tae  my  room,  and  if  a* 
the  bogies  in  the  Red  Sea  were  trapesin'  up  and 
doun  the  hale  nicht  through,  I  wud  never  put  my 
heid  oot  again  tae  hae  a  glimpse  o'  them. 

I  didna'  say  a  word  tae  anybody  aboot  what 
I'd  seen,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  wudna* 
stay  muckle  langer  at  Cloomber  Ha*.  Four 
pund  a  month  is  a  good  wage,  but  it  isna'  enough 
tae  pay  a  man  for  the  loss  6  his  peace  o'  mind, 


96 

and  maybe  the  loss  o*  his  soul  as  weel,  for  when 
the  deil  is  abootye  canna*  tell  what  sort  o'  a  trap 
he  may  lay  for  ye,  and  though  they  say  that 
Providence  is  stronger  than  him,  it's  maybe  as 
weel  no  to  risk  it.  It  was  clear  tae  me  that  the  gen- 
eral and  his  hoose  were  baith  under  some  curse, 
and  it  was  fit  that  that  curse  should  fa*  on  them 
that  had  earned  it,  and  no'  on  a  righteous  Presby- 
terian, wha  had  ever  trod  the  narrow  path.  My 
hairt  was  sair  for  young  Miss  Gabriel — for  she 
was  a  bonnie  and  a  winsome  lassie — but  for  a' 
that,  I  felt  that  my  duty  was  tae  mysel'  and  that 
I  should  gang  forth,  even  as  Lot  ganged  oot  o' 
the  wicked  cities  o'  the  plain.  That  awfu*  cling- 
clang  was  aye  dingin'  in  my  lugs,  and  I  couldrra* 
bear  to  be  alane  in  the  passages  for  fear  o*  hearin* 
it  ance  again.  I  only  wanted  a  chance  or  an 
excuse  tae  gie  the  general  notice,  and  tae  gang 
back  to  some  place  where  I  could  see  Christian 
folk,  and  have  the  kirk  within  a  stone-cast  tae  fa* 
back  upon. 

But  it  proved  to  be  ordained  that  instead  o* 
my  saying  the  word,  it  should  come  frae  the 
general  himsel'.  It  was  a'e  day  aboot  the  end  of 
September,  I  was  comin'  oot  o'  the  stable,  after 
giein'  its  oats  tae  the  horse,  when  I  seed  a  great 
muckle  loon  come  hoppin*  on  ane  leg  wp  the 


drive,  mair  like  a  big,  ill-faured  craw  than  a  man. 
When  I  clapped  my  e'en  on  him  I  thocht  that 
maybe  this  was  ane  of  the  rascals  that  the 
maister  had  been  speakin*  aboot,  so  withoot 
mair  ado  I  fetched  oot  my  bit  stick  with  the  in- 
tention  o*  tryin'  it  upon  the  limmer's  heid.  He 
seed  me  comin'  towards  him,  and  readin*  my 
intention  frae  my  look  maybe,  or  frae  the  stick 
in  my  hand,  he  pu'ed  oot  a  lang  knife  frae  his 
pocket  and  swore  wi'  the  most  awfu'  oaths  that 
if  I  didna*  stan*  back  he'd  be  the  death  o'  me. 
Ma  conscience,  the  words  the  chiel  used  was 
eneugh  tae  mak'  the  hair  stand  straight  on  your 
heid  1  I  wonner  he  wasna'  struck  deid  where  he 
stood.  We  were  still  stanin*  opposite  each 
ither — he  wi'  his  knife  and  me  wi'  the  stick- 
when  the  general  he  cam*  up  the  drive  and 
foond  us.  Tae  my  surprise  he  began  tae  talk  tae 
the  stranger  as  if  he'd  kenned  him  a*  his  days. 

"  Put  your  knife  in  your  pocket,  corporal,'* 
says  he.  "  Your  fears  have  turned  your  brain." 

"  Blood  an'  wounds  1"  says  the  other.  "  He'd 
ha'  turned  my  brain  tae  some  purpose  wi'  that 
muckle  stick  o'  his  if  I  hadna*  drawn  my  snicker- 
snee. You  shouldna'  keep  siccan  an  auld  sav- 
age on  your  premises." 

The  maister  he  frooned  and  looked  black  at 


him  as  though  he  didna*  relish  advice  comll* 
frae  such  a  source.  Then  turnin'  tae  me,  "  You 
won't  be  wanted  after  to-day,  Israel,"  he  says; 
"  you  have  been  a  guid  servant  and  I  ha'  nae- 
thing  tae  complain  of  wi'  ye,  but  circumstances 
have  arisen  which  will  cause  me  tae  change  my 
arrangements."  "  Vera  guid,  sir,"  says  I.  "  You 
can  go  this  evening,"  says  he,  "  and  you  shall 
have  an  extra  month's  pay  tae  mak'  up  t'ye  for 
this  short  notice."  Wi'  that  he  went  intae  the 
hoose,  followed  by  the  man  that  he  ca'ed  the 
corporal,  and  frae  that  day  tae  this  I  have  never 
clapped  e'en  either  on  the  ane  or  the  ither.  My 
money  was  sent  oot  tae  me  in  an  envelope,  and 
havin'  said  a  few  pairtin'  words  tae  the  cook  and 
the  wench  wi*  reference  tae  the  wrath  tae  come 
and  the  treasure  that  is  richer  than  rubies,  I 
shook  the  dust  o'  Cloomber  frae  my  feet  for 
ever. 

Maister  Fothergill  West  says  I  maunna'  ex- 
press an  opeenion  as  tae  what  cam'  aboot  after- 
wards,  but  maun  confine  mysel'  tae  what  I  saw 
mysel'.  Nae  doobt  he  has  his  reasons  for  this 
— and  far  be  it  frae  me  tae  hint  that  they  are  no 
guid  anes — but  I  maun  say  this,  that  what  hap- 
pened didna'  surprise  me.  It  was  just  as  I  ex- 
peckit,  and  so  I  said  to  Maister  Donald  McSnaw. 


99 

I've  tanld  ye  a'  aboot  it  noo,  and  I  havena"  a 
word  tae  add  or  tae  withdraw.  Tm  muckle 
obleeged  tae  Maister  Mathew  Clairk  for  puttirT 
it  a'  doun  in  writin'  for  me,  and  if  there's  ony 
would  wish  tae  speer  onything  mair  o*  me  I'm 
well  kenned  and  respeckit  in  Ecclefechan,  and 
Maister  McNeil,  the  factor  o*  Wigtown,  can  aye 
tell  where  I  am  tae  be  foond. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

NARRATIVE  OF  JOHN  EASTERLING,  F.R.C.P. 
EDIN. 

HAVING  given  the  statement  of  Israel  Stakes 
in  extenso,  I  shall  now  append  a  short  memoran- 
dum from  Dr.  Easterling,  now  practising1  at 
Stranraer.  It  is  true  that  the  doctor  was  only 
once  within  the  walls  of  Cloomber  during  its 
tenancy  by  General  Heatherstone,  but  there 
were  some  circumstances  connected  with  this 
visit  which  made  it  valuable,  especially  when 
considered  as  a  supplement  to  the  experiences 
which  I  have  just  submitted  to  the  reader.  The 
doctor  has  found  time  amid  the  calls  of  a  busy 
country  practise  to  jot  down  his  recollections, 
and  I  feel  that  I  cannot  do  better  than  subjoin 
them  exactly  as  they  stand. 

I  HAVE  very  much  pleasure  in  furnishing  Mr. 
Fothergill  West  with  an  account  of  my  solitary 
visit  to  Cloomber  Hall,  not  only  on  account  of 
the  esteem  which  I  have  formed  for  that  gentle- 


101 

man  ever  since  his  residence  at  Branksome,  but 
also  because  it  is  my  conviction  that  the  facts  in 
the  case  of  General  Heatherstone  are  of  such  a 
singular  nature  that  it  is  of  the  highest  import, 
ance  that  they  should  be  placed  before  the  pub- 
lic in  a  trustworthy  manner. 

It  was  about  the  beginning  of  September  of 
the  year  before  last,  that  I  received  a  note  from 
Mrs.  Heatherstone,  of  Cloomber  Hall,  desiring 
me  to  make  a  professional  call  upon  her  husband, 
whose  health,  she  said,  had  been  for  some  time 
in  a  very  unsatisfactory  state.  I  had  heard 
something  of  the  Heatherstones  and  of  the 
strange  seclusion  in  which  they  lived,  so  that  I 
was  very  much  pleased  at  this  opportunity  of 
making  their  closer  acquaintance,  and  lost  no 
time  in  complying  with  her  request.  I  had 
known  the  Hall  in  the  old  days  of  Mr.  McVittie, 
the  original  proprietor,  and  I  was  astonished  on 
arriving  at  the  avenue  gate  to  observe  the 
changes  which  had  taken  place.  The  gate  itself, 
which  used  to  yawn  so  hospitably  upon  the  road, 
was  now  barred  and  locked,  and  a  high  wooden 
fence  with  nails  upon  the  top  encircled  the 
whole  grounds.  The  drive  itself  was  leaf-strewn 
and  uncared  for,  and  the  whole  place  had  a 
depressing  air  of  neglect  and  decay. 


102 

I  had  to  knock  twice  before  a  servant-maid 
opened  the  door  and  showed  me  through  a 
dingy  hall  into  a  small  room,  where  sat  an 
elderly,  care-worn  lady,  who  introduced  herself 
as  Mrs.  Heatherstone.  With  her  pale  face,  her 
grey  hair,  her  sad,  colorless  eyes  and  her  faded 
silk  dress,  she  was  in  perfect  keeping  with  her 
melancholy  surroundings. 

"  You  find  us  in  much  trouble,  doctor,"  she 
said  in  a  quiet,  refined  voice.  "  My  poor  hus- 
band has  had  a  great  deal  to  worry  him,  and  his 
nervous  system  for  a  long  time  has  been  in  a 
very  weak  state.  We  came  to  this  part  of  the 
country  in  the  hope  that  the  bracing  air  and  the 
quiet  would  have  a  good  effect  upon  him. 
Instead  of  improving,  however,  he  has  seemed 
to  grow  weaker,  and  this  morning  he  is  in  a  high 
fever  and  a  little  inclined  to  be  delirious.  The 
children  and  I  were  so  frightened  that  we  sent 
for  you  at  once.  If  you  will  follow  me  I  will 
take  you  to  the  general's  bedroom." 

She  led  the  way  down  a  series  of  corridors  to 
the  chamber  of  the  sick  man,  which  was  situated 
in  the  extreme  wing  of  the  building.  It  was  a 
carpetless,  bleak-looking  room,  scantily  furnished 
with  a  small  truckle-bed,  a  campaigning  chair, 
and  a  plain  deal  table,  on  which  were  scattered 


103 

numerous  papers  and  books.  In  the  centre  ol 
this  table  there  stood  a  large  object  of  irregular 
outline  which  was  covered  over  with  a  sheet  of 
linen.  Alt  round  the  walls  and  in  the  corners 
were  arranged  a  very  choice  and  varied  collec- 
tion of  arms,  principally  swords,  some  of  which 
were  of  the  straight  pattern  in  common  use  in 
the  British  army,  while  among  the  others 
were  scimitars,  tulwars,  cuchurries,  and  a  score 
of  other  specimens  of  Oriental  workmanship. 
Many  of  these  were  richly  mounted  with  inlaid 
sheaths  and  hilts  sparkling  with  precious  stones, 
so  that  there  was  a  piquant  contrast  between 
the  simplicity  of  the  apartment  and  the  wealth 
which  glittered  on  the  walls.  I  had  little  time, 
however,  to  observe  the  general's  collection, 
since  the  general  himself  lay  upon  his  couch 
and  was  evidently  in  sore  need  of  my  services. 

He  was  lying  with  his  head  turned  half  away 
from  us,  breathing  heavily,  and  apparently 
unconscious  of  our  presence.  His  bright,  star, 
ing  eyes  and  the  deep,  hectic  flush  upon  his 
cheek  showed  that  his  fever  was  at  its  height.  I 
advanced  to  the  bedside,  and,  stooping  over 
him,  I  placed  my  fingers  upon  his  pulse,  when 
immediately  he  sprang  up  into  the  sitting  posi- 
tion and  struck  at  me  frenziedly  with  his 


clenched  hands.  I  have  never  seen  such  intens- 
ity of  fear  and  horror  stamped  upon  a  human 
face  as  appeared  upon  that  which  was  now  glar- 
ing up  at  me. 

"Bloodhound!"  he  yelled;  "let  me  go— let 
me  go,  I  say  I  Keep  your  hands  oft  me.  Is  it 
not  enough  that  my  life  has  been  ruined  ?  When 
is  it  all  to  end?  How  long  am  I  to  endure  it?H 

*  Hush,  dear,  hush  1"  said  his  wife  in  a  sooth, 
ing  voice,  passing  her  cool  hand  over  his  heated 
forehead.  "  This  is  Doctor  Easterling,  from 
Stranraer.  He  has  not  come  to  harm  you,  but 
to  do  you  good." 

The  general  dropped  wearily  back  upon  his 
pillow,  and  I  could  see  by  the  changed  expres- 
sion of  his  face  that  the  delirium  had  left  him 
and  that  he  understood  what  had  been  said.  I 
slipped  my  clinical  thermometer  into  his  armpit 
and  counted  his  pulse  rate.  It  amounted  to  120 
per  minute,  and  his  temperature  proved  to  be 
104  degrees.  Clearly  it  was  a  case  of  remittent 
fever,  such  as  occurs  in  men  who  have  spent  a 
great  part  of  their  lives  in  the  tropics.  "  There 
is  no  danger,"  I  remarked.  «« With  a  little 
quinine  and  arsenic  we  shall  very  soon  overcome 
the  attack  and  restore  his  health." 

"  No  danger,  eh  1"  he  said.    "  There  never  is 


10$ 

any  danger  for  me.  I  am  as  hard  to  kill  as  the 
Wandering  Jew.  I  am  quite  clear  in  the  head 
now,  Mary ;  so  you  may  leave  me  with  the 
doctor." 

Mrs.  Heatherstone  left  the  room — rather  un- 
willingly, as  I  thought — and  I  sat  down  by  the 
bedside  to  listen  to  anything  which  my  patient 
might  have  to  communicate. 

"  I  want  you  to  examine  my  liver,"  he  said, 
when  the  door  was  closed.  "  I  used  to  have  an 
abscess  there,  and  Brodie,  the  staff-surgeon,  said 
that  it  was  ten  to  one  that  it  would  carry  me  off. 
I  have  not  felt  much  of  it  since  I  left  the  East. 
This  is  where  it  used  to  be,  just  under  the  angle 
of  the  ribs." 

"  I  can  find  the  place,"  said  I,  after  making  a 
careful  examination  ;  "  but  I  am  happy  to  tell  you 
that  the  abscess  has  either  been  entirely  absorbed 
or  has  turned  calcareous,  as  these  solitary  ab- 
scesses will.  There  is  no  fear  of  its  doing  you 
any  harm  now." 

He  seemed  to  be  by  no  means  overjoyed  at 
the  intelligence. 

"  Things  always  happen  so  with  me,'*  he  said, 
moodily.  "  Now,  if  another  fellow  was  feverish 
and  delirious  he  would  surely  be  in  some  danger; 
and  yet  you  will  tell  me  that  I  am  in  none.  Look 


io6 

at  this,  now.*'  He  bared  his  chest  and  showed 
me  a  puckered  wound  over  the  region  of  the 
heart.  "  That's  where  the  Jezail  bullet  of  a  hill 
man  went  in.  You  would  think  that  was  in  the 
right  spot  to  settle  a  man  ;  and  yet  what  does  it 
do  but  glance  upon  a  rib,  and  go  clean  round  and 
out  at  the  back,  without  so  much  as  penetrating 
what  you  medicos  call  the  pleura.  Did  ever 
you  hear  of  such  a  thing?" 

"  You  were  certainly  born  under  a  lucky  star," 
I  observed  with  a  smile. 

"That's  a  matter  of  opinion,"  he  answered, 
shaking  his  head.  '•  Death  has  no  terrors  for 
me,  if  it  will  but  come  in  some  familiar  form  ; 
but  I  confess  that  the  anticipation  of  some 
strange,  some  preternatural  form  of  death,  is  very 
terrible  and  unnerving  " 

"You  mean,"  said  I,  rather  puzzled  at  his 
remark,  "  that  you  would  prefer  a  natural  death 
to  a  death  by  violence." 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  that  exactly,"  he  answered. 
"  I  am  too  familiar  with  cold  steel  and  lead  to 
be  afraid  of  either.  Do  you  know  anything 
about  odyllic  force,  doctor  ?" 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  I  replied,  glancing  sharply  at 
him  to  see  if  there  were  any  signs  of  his  delirium 
returning. 


107 

His  expression  was  intelligent,  however,  and 
the  feverish  flush  had  faded  from  his  cheeks. 

"  Ah,  you  western  scientific  men  are  very 
much  behind  the  day  in  some  things,"  he  re- 
marked. "  In  all  that  is  material  and  conducive 
to  the  comfort  of  the  body  you  are  pre-eminent, 
but  in  what  concerns  the  subtle  forces  of  nature 
and  the  latent  powers  of  the  human  spirit,  your 
best  men  are  centuries  behind  the  humblest 
coolies  of  India.  Countless  generations  of  beef- 
eating,  comfort-loving  ancestors  have  given  our 
animal  instincts  the  command  over  our  spiritual 
ones.  The  body,  which  should  have  been  a  mere 
tool  for  the  use  of  the  soul,  has  now  become  a 
degrading  prison  in  which  it  is  confined.  The 
Oriental  soul  and  body  is  not  so  welded  together 
as  ours  is,  and  there  is  far  less  wrench  when  they 
part  in  death." 

"  They  do  not  appear  to  derive  much  benefit 
from  this  peculiarity  in  their  organization,"  I 
remarked,  incredulously. 

"  Merely  the  benefit  of  superior  knowledge/* 
the  general  answered.  "  If  you  were  to  go  to 
India,  probably  the  very  first  thing  you  would 
see  in  the  way  of  amusement  would  be  a  native 
doing  what  is  called  the  mango  trick  Of  course 
you  have  heard  or  read  of  it.  The  fellow  plants 


io6 

a  mango  seed  and  makes  passes  over  it  until  it 
sprouts  and  bears  leaves  and  fruit — all  in  the 
space  of  half  an  hour.  It  is  not  really  a  trick — 
it  is  a  power.  These  men  know  more  than  your 
Tyndalls  or  Huxleys  do  about  Nature's  pro- 
cesses, and  they  can  accelerate  or  retard  her 
workings  by  subtle  means,  of  which  we  have  no 
conception.  These  low-caste  conjurros — as  they 
are  called — are  mere  vulgar  dabblers,  but  the 
men  who  have  trod  the  higher  path,  the  brethren 
of  the  Ragi-zog,  are  far  more  our  superiors  in 
knowledge  than  we  are  of  the  Hottentots  or 
Patagonians." 

"  You  speak  as  if  you  were  well  acquainted 
with  them,"  I  remarked. 

"  To  my  cost,  I  do,"  he  answered.  "  I  have 
been  brought  in  contact  with  them  in  a  way  in 
which  I  trust  no  other  poor  devil  ever  will  be. 
But,  really,  as  regards  odyllic  force  you  ought 
to  know  something  of  it,  for  it  has  a  great  future 
before  it  in  your  profession.  You  should  read 
Reichenbach's  '  Researches  on  Magnetism  and 
Vital  Force/  and  Gregory's  '  Letters  on  Animal 
Magnetism.'  These  supplemented  by  the  twenty- 
seven  Aphorisms  of  Mesmer,  and  the  works  of 
Dr.  Justinus  Kerner,  of  Weinsberg,  would 
enlarge  your  ideas.'* 


109 

I  did  not  particularly  relish  having  a  course  of 
reading  prescribed  for  me  on  a  subject  connected 
with  my  own  profession,  so  I  made  no  comment, 
but  rose  to  take  my  departure.  Before  doing  so 
I  felt  his  pulse  once  more,  and  found  that  the 
fever  had  entirely  left  him,  in  the  sudden,  unac- 
countable fashion  which  is  peculiar  to  these 
malarious  types  of  disease.  I  turned  my  face 
towards  him  to  congratulate  him  upon  his  im. 
provement,  and  stretched  out  my  hand  at  the 
same  time  to  pick  my  gloves  from  the  table,  with 
the  result  that  I  raised  not  only  my  own  property, 
but  also  the  linen  cloth  which  was  arranged  over 
some  object  in  the  centre.  I  might  not  have 
noticed  what  I  had  done  had  I  not  seen  an  angry 
look  upon  the  invalid's  face  and  heard  him  utter 
an  impatient  exclamation.  I  at  once  turned, 
and  replaced  the  cloth  so  promptly  that  I  should 
have  been  unable  to  say  what  was  underneath  it, 
beyond  having  a  general  impression  that  it  looked 
like  a  bride-cake. 

"  All  right,  doctor,"  the  general  said  good- 
humoredly,  perceiving  how  entirely  accidental 
the  incident  was.  "  There  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  not  see  it,"  and  stretching  out  his  hand, 
he  pulled  away  the  linen  covering  for  the  second 
time.  I  then  perceived  that  what  I  had  taken 


I  to 

I 

for  a  bride-cake  was  really  an  admirably  executed 
model  of  a  lofty  range  of  mountains,  whose 
snow-clad  peaks  were  not  unlike  the  familiar 
sugar  pinnacles  and  minarets. 

"  These  are  the  Himalayas,  or  at  least  the 
Surinam  branch  of  them,"  he  remarked,  "  show- 
ing  the  principal  passes  between  India  and 
Afghanistan.  It  is  an  exellent  model.  This 
ground  has  a  special  interest  for  me,  because  it 
is  the  scene  of  my  first  campaign.  There  is  the 
pass  opposite  Kalabagh  and  the  Thul  valley, 
where  I  was  engaged  during  the  summer  of 
1841,  in  protecting  the  convoys  and  keeping  the 
Afridis  in  order.  It  wasn't  a  sinecure  I  promise 
you." 

"  And  this,"  said  I,  indicating  a  blood-red  spot 
which  had  been  marked  on  one  side  of  the  pass 
which  he  had  pointed  out — "  this  is  the  scene  of 
some  fight  in  which  you  were  engaged." 

."  Yes,  we  had  a  skirmish  there,"  he  answered, 
leaning  forward  and  looking  at  the  red  mark. 

"  We  were  attacked  by "  At  this  moment 

he  fell  back  upon  his  pillow  as  if  he  had  been 
shot,  while  the  same  look  of  horror  came  over 
his  face  which  I  had  observed  when  I  first 
entered  the  room.  At  the  same  instant  there 
came,  apparently  from  the  air  immediately  above 


Ill 

his  bed,  a  sharp,  ringing,  tinkling  sound,  which 
I  can  only  compare  to  the  noise  made  by  a 
bicycle  alarm,  though  it  differed  from  this  in 
having  a  distinctly  throbbing  character.  I  have 
never,  before  or  since,  heard  any  sound  which 
could  be  confounded  with  it.  I  stared  round  in 
astonishment,  wondering  where  it  could  have 
come  from,  but  without  perceiving  anything  to 
which  it  could  be  ascribed. 

"  It's  all  right,  doctor,"  the  general  said,  with 
a  forced  smile.  "  It's  only  my  private  gong. 
Perhaps  you  had  better  step  downstairs  and 
write  my  prescription  in  the  dining-room. 

He  was  evidently  anxious  to  get  rid  of  me  ;  so 
I  was  forced  to  take  my  departure,  though  I 
would  gladly  have  stayed  a  little  longer,  in  the 
hope  of  learning  something  as  to  the  origin  of 
the  mysterious  sound.  I  drove  away  from  the 
house  with  the  full  determination  of  calling 
again  upon  my  interesting  patient, and  endeavor- 
ing to  elicit  some  further  particulars  as  to  his 
past  life  and  his  present  circumstances.  I  was 
destined,  however,  to  be  disappointed ;  for  I 
received  that  very  evening  a  note  from  the  gen- 
eral  himself,  inclosing  a  handsome  fee  for  my 
single  visit,  and  informing  me  that  my  treatment 
had  done  him  so  much  Ejood  that  he  considered 


113 

himself  to  be  convalescent,  and  would  not  trouble 
me  to  see  him  again.  This  was  the  last  and  the 
only  communication  which  I  ever  received  from 
the  tenant  of  Cloomber. 

I  have  been  frequently  asked  by  neighbors 
and  others  who  were  interested  in  the  matter, 
whether  he  gave  me  the  impression  of  insanity. 
To  this  I  must  unhesitatingly  answer  in  the  neg- 
ative. On  the  contrary  his  remarks  gave  me 
the  idea  of  a  man  who  had  both  read  and  thought 
deeply.  I  observed,  however,  during  our  single 
interview,  that  his  reflexes  were  feeble,  his  arcus 
senilis  well-marked,  and  his  arteries  atheroma- 
tous — all  signs  that  his  constitution  was  in  an 
unsatisfactory  condition,  and  that  n  sudden 
crisis  might  be  apprehended. 


CHAPTER  X. 

OF  THE  LETTER  WHICH    CAME  FROM  THE  HALI, 

Having  thrown  this  side-light  upon  my  nar- 
rative, I  can  now  resume  the  statement  of  my 
own  personal  experiences.  These  I  had  brought 
down,  as  the  reader  will  doubtless  remember,  to 
the  date  of  the  arrival  of  the  savage-looking 
wanderer  who  called  himself  Corporal  Rufus 
Smith.  This  incident  occurred  about  the  close 
of  the  month  of  September,  and  I  find  upon  a 
comparison  of  dates  that  Dr.  Easterling's  visit 
to  Cloomber  preceded  it  by  three  weeks  or 
more.  During  all  this  time  I  was  in  sore  dis- 
tress of  mind,  for  I  had  never  seen  anything 
cither  of  Gabriel  or  of  her  brother  since  the 
interview  in  which  the  general  had  discovered 
the  communication  which  was  kept  up  between 
us.  I  had  no  doubt  that  some  sort  of  restraint 
had  been  placed  upon  them ;  and  the  thought 
that  we  had  brought  trouble  on  their  heads  was 
a  bitter  one  both  to  my  sister  and  myself. 

Our  anxiety,  however,  was  considerably  miti- 


114 

gated  by  the  receipt,  a  couple  of  days  after  my 
last  talk  with  the  general,  of  a  note  from  Mor- 
daunt  Heatherstone.  This  was  brought  us  by  a 
little  ragged  urchin,  the  son  of  one  of  the  fisher, 
men,  who  informed  us  that  it  had  been  handed 
to  him  at  the  avenue  gate  by  an  old  woman  — 
who,  I  expect,  must  have  been  the  Cloomber 
cook. 

"  My  dearest  friends,"  it  ran,  "  Gabriel  and  I 
have  grieved  to  think  how  concerned  you  must 
be  at  having  neither  heard  from  or  seen  us. 
The  fact  is  that  we  are  compelled  to  remain  in 
the  house.  And  this  compulsion  is  not  physical 
but  moral.  Our  poor  father,  who  gets  more  and 
more  nervous  every  day,  has  entreated  us  to 
promise  him  that  we  will  not  go  out  until  after 
the  5th  of  October,  and  to  allay  his  fears  we 
have  given  him  the  desired  pledge.  On  the 
other  hand,  he  has  promised  us  that  alter  the 
5th — that  is,  in  less  than  a  week — we  shall  be  as 
free  as  air  to  come  or  go  as  we  please  ;  so  we 
have  something  to  look  forward  to.  Gabriel 
says  that  she  has  explained  to  you  that  the  gov- 
ernor is  always  a  changed  man  after  this  par- 
ticular date,  on  which  his  fears  reach  a  crisis. 
He  apparently  has  more  reason  than  usual  this 
year  to  anticipate  that  trouble  is  brewing  for 


this  unfortunate  family,  for  I  have  never  known 
him  to  take  so  many  elaborate  precautions  or 
appear  so  thoroughly  unnerved.  Who  would 
ever  think,  to  see  his  bent  form  and  his  shak- 
ing hands,  that  he  is  the  same  man  who  used 
some  few  short  years  ago  to  shoot  tigers  on 
foot  among  the  jungles  of  the  Terai,  and  would 
l^ugh  at  the  more  timid  sportsmen  who  sought 
the  protection  of  their  elephant's  howdah  ? 
You  know  that  he  has  the  Victoria  Cross,  which 
he  won  in  the  streets  of  Delhi,  and  yet  here  he 
is  shivering  with  terror  and  starting  at  every 
noise,  in  the  most  peaceful  corner  of  the  world. 
Oh,  the  pity  of  it,  West !  Remember  what  I 
have  already  told  you — that  it  is  no  fanciful 
or  imaginary  peril,  but  one  which  we  have 
every  reason  to  suppose  to  be  most  real. 
It  is,  however,  of  such  a  nature  that  it  can 
neither  be  averted  nor  can  it  profitably  be  ex- 
pressed in  words.  If  all  goes  well,  you  will  see 
us  at  Branksome  on  the  6th.  With  our  fondest 
love  to  both  of  you,  I  am  ever,  my  dear  friends, 
your  attached  MORDAUNT." 

This  letter  was  a  great  relief  to  us  as  letting 
us  know  that  the  brother  and  sister  were  under 
no  physical  restraint ;  but  our  powerlessness  and 


inability  even  to  comprehend  what  the  danger 
was  which  threatened  those  whom  we  had  come 
to  love  better  than  oursevives  was  little  short  of 
maddening.  Fifty  times  a  day  we  asked  our- 
selves and  asked  each  other  from  what  possible 
quarter  this  peril  was  to  be  expected ;  but  the 
more  we  thought  of  it  the  more  hopeless  did  any 
solution  appear.  In  vain  we  combined  our 
experiences  and  pieced  together  every  word 
which  had  fallen  from  the  lips  of  any  inmate  of 
Cloomber  which  might  be  supposed  to  bear  di- 
rectly or  indirectly  upon  the  subject.  At  last, 
weary  with  fruitless  speculation,  we  were  fain  to 
try  and  drive  the  matter  from  our  thoughts, 
consoling  ourselves  with  the  reflection  that  in  a 
few  more  days  all  restrictions  would  be  removed, 
and  we  should  be  able  to  learn  from  our  friends' 
own  lips.  Those  few  intervening  days,  how- 
ever, would,  we  feared,  be  dreary,  long  ones. 
And  so  they  would,  had  it  not  been  for  a  new 
and  most  unexpected  incident,  which  diverted 
our  minds  from  our  own  troubles  and  gave  them 
something  fresh  with  which  to  occupy  thenv 
selves. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

OF    THE    CASTING    AWAY  OF    THE    BARK 
"  BELINDA." 

OCTOBER  had  broken  auspiciously  with  a 
bright  sun  and  a  cloudless  sky.  There  had  in 
the  morning  been  a  slight  breeze,  and  a  few  little 
white  wreaths  of  vapor  drifted  here  and  there 
like  the  scattered  feathers  of  some  gigantic  bird  ; 
but  as  the  day  wore  on,  such  wind  as  there  was 
fell  completely  away,  and  the  air  became  close 
and  stagnant.  The  sun  blazed  down  with  a 
degree  of  heat  which  was  remarkable  so  late  in 
the  season,  and  a  shimmering  haze  lay  upon  the 
upland  moors  and  concealed  the  Irish  mountains 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel.  The  sea  itself 
rose  and  fell  in  a  long,  heavy,  oily  roll,  sweeping 
slowly  landward,  and  breaking  sullenly  with  a 
dull,  monotonous  booming  upon  the  rock-girt 
h  ore.  To  the  inexperienced  all  seemed  calm 
and  peaceful,  but  to  those  who  are  accustomed 
to  read  Nature's  warnings  there  was  a  dark 
menace  in  air  and  sky  and  sea. 


My  sister  and  I  walked  out  in  the  afternoon, 
sauntering  slowly  along  the  margin  of  the  great, 
sandy  spit  which  shoots  out  into  the  Irish  Sea, 
flanking  upon  one  side  the  magnificent  Bay 
of  Luce,  and  on  the  other  the  more  obscure 
inlet  of  Kirkmaiden,  on  the  shores  of  which 
the  Branksome  property  is  situated.  It  was 
too  sultry  to  go  far ;  so  we  soon  seated  our- 
selves upon  one  of  the  sandy  hillocks,  over- 
grown with  faded  grass-tufts,  which  extend 
along  the  coast-line,  and  which  form  Nature's 
dykes  against  the  encroachments  of  the  ocean. 
Our  rest  was  soon  interrupted  by  the  scrunching 
of  heavy  boots  upon  the  shingle  ;  and  Jamieson, 
the  old  man-o'-war's  man  whom  I  have  already 
had  occasion  to  mention,  made  his  appearance, 
with  the  flat,  circular  net  upon  his  back  which  he 
used  for  shrimp-catching.  He  came  towards  us 
upon  seeing  us,  and  said  in  his  rough,  kindly  way 
that  he  hoped  we  would  not  take  it  amiss  if  he 
sent  us  up  a  dish  of  shrimps  for  our  tea  at  Brank- 
some. "  I  aye  make  a  good  catch  before  a 
storm,"  he  remarked. 

"  You  think  there  is  going  to  be  a  storm, 
then  ?"  I  asked. 

"Why,  even  a  marine  could  see  that,"  he  an, 
•wered,  sticking  a  great  wedge  of  tobacco  into 


H9 

his  cheek.  "  The  moors  over  near  Cloomber 
are  just  white  wi'  gulls  and  kittiwakes.  What 
d'ye  think  they  come  ashore  for  except  to  es- 
cape having  all  the  feathers  blown  out  o'  them  ? 
I  mind  a  day  like  this  when  I  was  wi'  Charlie 
Napier  off  Cronstadt.  It  well  nigh  blew  us  un- 
der the  guns  of  the  forts,  for  all  our  engines  and 
propellers." 

"  Have  you  ever  known  a  wreck  in  these 
parts  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Lord  love  ye,  sir,  it's  a  famous  place  for 
Wrecks.  Why,  in  that  very  bay  down  there  two 
o'  King  Philip's  first-rates  foundered  wi'  all 
hands  in  the  days  o'  the  Spanish  war.  If  that 
sheet  o*  water  and  the  Bny  o'  Luce  round  the 
corner  could  tell  their  ain  tale  they'd  have  a  gey 
lot  to  speak  of.  When  the  Jedgment  Day 
comes  round  that  water  will  be  just  bubbling  wi' 
the  number  o*  folks  that  will  b«  coming  up  frae 
the  bottom." 

"  I  trust  that  there  will  be  no  wreck?  while  we 
are  here,"  said  Esther,  earnestly. 

The  old  man  shook  his  griziled  head  and 
looked  distrustfully  at  the  hazy  hon'zon.  "  If  it 
blows  from  the  west,"  he  said,  "  some  o'  these 
sailing  ships  may  find  it  no  /oke  to  be  caught 
without  sea-room  in  the  North  Ch?pnel» 


120 

There's  that  bark  out  there — I  daresay  her 
maister  would  be  glad  enough  to  find  himself 
safe  in  the  Clyde." 

"  She  seems  to  be  absolutely  motionless,"  I  re- 
marked,  looking  at  the  vessel  in  question,  whose 
black  hull  and  gleaming  sails  rose  and  fell  slowly 
with  the  throbbing  of  the  giant  pulse  beneath 
her.  "  Perhaps,  Jamieson,  we  are  wrong,  and 
there  will  be  no  storm  after  all." 

The  old  sailor  chuckled  to  himself  with  an  air 
of  superior  knowledge,  and  shuffled  away  with 
his  shrimp-net,  while  my  sister  and  I  walked 
slowly  homeward  through  the  hot  and  stagnant 
air.  I  went  up  to  my  father's  study  to  see  if  the 
old  gentleman  had  any  instructions  as  to  the  es- 
tate, for  he  had  become  engrossed  in  a  new  work 
upon  Oriental  literature,  and  the  practical  man. 
agement  of  the  property  had  in  consequence  de- 
volved entirely  upon  me. 

I  I  found  him  seated  at  his  square  library  table, 
which  was  so  heaped  with  books  and  papers  that 
nothing  of  him  was  visible  from  the  door  except 
a  tuft  of  white  hair.  •'  My  dear  son,"  he  said  to 
me  as  I  entered,  "  it  is  a  great  grief  to  me  that 
you  are  not  more  conversant  with  Sanscrit. 
When  I  was  your  age,  I  could  converse  not 
only  in  that  noble  language,  but  also  in  the 


121 

Tamulic,  Lohitic,  Gangelic,  Taic,  and  MalaJc 
dialects,  which  are  all  offshoots  from  the  Turan- 
ian branch." 

"  I  reget  extremely,  sir,"  I  answered,  "  that  I 
have  not  inherited  your  wonderful  talents  as  a 
polyglot." 

"  I  have  set  myself  a  task,"  he  explained, 
44  which,  if  it  could  only  be  continued  from 
generation  to  generation  in  our  own  family  until 
it  was  completed,  would  make  the  name  of  West 
immortal.  This  is  nothing  less  than  to  publish 
an  English  translation  of  the  Buddhist  Djarmas, 
with  a  preface  giving  an  idea  of  the  position  of 
Brahminism  before  the  coming  of  Sakyamuni. 
With  diligence  it  is  possible  that  I  might  be  able 
myself  to  complete  part  of  the  preface  before  I 
die." 

"And  pray,  sir,*'  I  asked,  "how  long  would 
the  whole  work  be  when  it  was  finished  ?" 

"The  abridged  edition  in  the  Imperial  Library 
of  Pekin,"  said  my  father,  rubbing  his  hands 
together,  "  consists  of  325  volumes  of  an  average 
weight  of  five  pounds.  Then  the  preface,  which 
must  embrace  some  account  of  the  Rig-veda,  the 
S^ma-veda,  the  Yagur-veda  and  the  Atharva- 
veda,  with  the  Brahmanas,  could  hardly  be 
completed  in  less  than  ten  volumes.  Novr  if 


122 

we  apportion  one  volume  to  each  year  there  !s 
every  prospect  of  the  family  coming  to  an  end  of 
its  task  about  the  date  2250,  the  twelfth  genera, 
tion  completing  the  work,  while  the  thirteenth 
might  occupy  itself  upon  the  index." 

"  And  how  are  our  descendants  to  live,  sir,"  I 
asked  with  a  smile,  "during  the  progress  of  this 
great  undertaking  ?" 

"  That's  the  worst  of  you,  Jack,"  my  father 
cried,  petulantly.  "  There  is  nothing  practical 
about  you.  Instead  of  confining  your  attention 
to  the  working  out  of  my  noble  scheme,  you 
begin  raising  all  sorts  of  absurd  objections.  It 
is  a  mere  matter  of  detail  how  our  descendants 
live,  so  long  as  they  stick  to  the  Djarmas.  Now 
I  want  you  to  go  up  to  the  bothy  of  Fergus 
McDonald  and  see  about  the  thatch,  and  Willie 
Fullerton  has  written  to  say  that  his  milk-cow  is 
bad.  You  might  look  in  upon  your  way  and 
ask  after  it." 

I  started  off  upon  my  errands,  but  before 
doing  so  I  took  a  look  at  the  barometer  upon  the 
wall.  The  mercury  had  sunk  to  the  phenomenal 
point  of  twenty-eight  inches.  Clearly  the  old 
sailor  had  not  been  wrong  in  his  interpretation 
of  Nature's  signs.  As  I  returned  over  the  moors 
in  the  evening  the  wind  was  blowing  in  short, 


123 

angry  puffs,  and  the  western  horizon  was  heaped 
with  sombre  clouds  which  stretched  their  long, 
ragged  tentacles  right  up  to  the  zenith.  Against 
their  dark  background  one  or  two  livid,  sulphur, 
colored  splotches  showed  up  malignant  and 
menacing,  while  the  surface  of  the  sea  had 
changed  from  the  appearance  of  burnished 
quicksilver  to  that  of  ground  glass.  A  low, 
moaning  sound  rose  up  from  the  ocean  as  if  it 
knew  that  trouble  was  in  store  for  it.  Far  out 
in  the  Channel  I  saw  a  single  panting,  eager 
steam-vessel  making  its  way  to  Belfast  Lough, 
and  the  large  bark  which  I  had  observed  in 
the  morning  still  beating  about  in  the  offing, 
endeavoring  to  pass  to  the  northward.  At  nine 
o'clock  a  sharp  breeze  was  blowing;  at  ten  it 
had  freshened  into  a  gale ;  and  before  midnight 
the  most  furious  storm  was  raging  which  I  can 
remember  upon  that  weather-beaten  coast. 

I  sat  for  some  time  in  our  small,  oak-panelled 
sitting-room  listening  to  the  screeching  and 
howling  of  the  blast  and  to  the  rattle  of  the 
gravel  and  pebbles  as  they  pattered  against  the 
window.  Nature's  grim  orchestra  was  playing 
its  world-old  piece  with  a  compass  which  ranged 
from  the  deep  diapason  of  the  thundering  surge 
to  the  thin  shriek  of  the  scattered  shingle  and 


124 

the  keen  piping  of  frightened  sea  birds.  One* 
for  an  instant  I  opened  the  lattice  window,  but  a 
gust  of  wind  and  rain  came  blustering  through, 
bearing  with  it  a  great  sheet  of  sea-weed,  which 
flapped  down  upon  the  table.  It  was  all  I  could 
do  to  close  it  again  in  the  face  of  the  blast.  My 
sister  and  my  father  had  retired  to  their  rooms, 
but  my  thoughts  were  too  active  for  sleep,  so  I 
continued  to  sit  and  to  smoke  by  the  smoldering 
fire.  What  was  going  on  in^  the  Hall  now,  I 
wondered?  What  did  Gabriel  think  of  the 
storm,  and  how  did  it  affect  the  old  man  who 
wandered  about  in  the  night  ?  Did  he  welcome 
these  dread  forces  of  nature  as  being  of  the  same 
order  of  things  as  his  own  tumultuous  thoughts? 
It  was  only  four  days  now  from  the  date  which 
I  had  been  assured  was  to  mark  a  crisis  in  his 
fortunes.  Would  he  regard  this  sudden  tempest 
as  being  in  any  way  connected  with  the  myste- 
rious fate  which  threatened  him  ?  Over  all 
these  things  and  many  more  I  pondered  as  I  sat 
by  the  glowing  embers  until  they  died  gradually 
©ut,  and  the  chill  night  air  warned  me  that  it 
was  time  to  retire. 

I  may  have  slept  a  couple  of  hours  when  I  was 
awoke  by  some  one  tugging  furiously  at  my 
shoulder.  Sitting  up  in  bed,  I  saw  by  the  dim 


125 

light  that  my  father  was  standing  half  clad  by 
my  bedside,  and  that  it  was  his  grasp  which  I 
felt  on  my  night-shirt. 

"  Get  up,  Jack,  get  up !"  he  was  crying  ex- 
citedly. "  There's  a  great  ship  ashore  in  the 
bay,  and  the  poor  folk  will  all  be  drowned. 
Come  down,  my  boy,  and  let  us  see  what  we  can 
do."  The  good  old  man  seemed  to  be  nearly 
beside  himself  with  excitement  and  impatience. 

I  sprang  from  my  bed,  and  was  huddling  on  a 
few  clothes,  when  a  dull,  booming  sound  made 
itself  heard  above  the  howling  of  the  wind  and 
the  thunder  of  the  breakers. 

"  There  it  is  again  !"  cried  my  father.  "  It  is 
their  signal  gun,  poor  creatures  !  Jamieson  and 
the  fishermen  are  below.  Put  your  oilskin  coat 
on  and  the  Glengarry  hat.  Come,  come,  every 
second  may  mean  a  human  life  !"  We  hurried 
down  together  and  made  our  way  to  the  beach, 
accompanied  by  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Branksome. 

The  gale  had  increased  rather  than  moderated, 
and  the  wind  screamed  all  round  us  with  an 
infernal  clamor.  So  great  was  its  force  that 
we  had  to  put  our  shoulders  against  it,  and  bore 
our  way  through  it,  while  the  sand  and  gravel 
tingled  up  against  our  faces.  There  was  just 


126 

light  enough  to  make  out  the  scudding  clouds 
and  the  white  gleam  of  the  breakers,  but  beyond 
that  all  was  absolute  darkness.  We  stood  ankle 
deep  in  the  shingle  and  seaweed,  shading  our 
eyes  with  our  hands  and  peering  out  into  the 
inky  obscurity.  It  seemed  to  me  as  I  listened 
that  I  could  hear  human  voices  loud  in  entreaty 
and  terror,  but  amid  the  wild  turmoil  of  nature 
it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  one  sound  from 
another.  Suddenly,  however,  a  light  glimmered 
in  the  heart  of  the  tempest,  and  next  instant  the 
beach  and  sky  and  wide  tossing  bay  were  bril- 
liantly illuminated  by  the  wide  glare  of  a  signal 
light. 

She  lay  on  her  beam  ends  right  in  the  centre 
of  the  terrible  Hansel  reef,  hurled  over  to  such 
an  angle  that  I  could  see  all  the  planking  of  her 
deck.  I  recognized  her  at  once  as  being  the 
same  three-masted  bark  which  I  had  observed 
in  the  Channel  in  the  morning,  and  the  Union 
Jack  which  was  nailed  upside  down  to  the 
jagged  stump  of  her  mizzen  proclaimed  her 
nationality.  Every  spar  and  rope  and  writhing 
piece  of  cordage  showed  up  hard  and  clear 
under  the  livid  light  which  sputtered  and 
flickered  from  the  highest  portion  of  the  fore- 
castle. Beyond  the  doomed  ship  out  of  the 


127 

great  darkness  came  the  long,  rolling  linei  of 
black  waves,  never  ending,  never  tiring,  with  a 
petulant  tuft  of  foam  here  and  there  upon  their 
crests.  Each  as  it  reached  the  broad  circle  of 
unnatural  light  appeared  to  gather  strength  and 
volume  and  to  hurry  on  more  impetuously  until 
with  a  roar  and  a  jarring  crash  it  sprang  upon 
its  victim.  Clinging  to  the  weather  shrouds  we 
could  distinctly  see  ten  or  a  dozen  frightened 
seamen,  who,  when  the  light  revealed  our  pres- 
ence, turned  their  white  faces  towards  us  and 
waved  their  hands  imploringly.  The  poor 
wretches  had  evidently  taken  fresh  hope  from 
our  presence,  though  it  was  clear  that  their  own 
boats  had  either  been  washed  away  or  so 
damaged  as  to  render  them  useless. 

The  sailors  who  clung  to  the  rigging  were 
not,  however,  the  only  unfortunates  aboard.  On 
the  breaking  poop  there  stood  three  men  who 
appeared  to  be  both  of  a  different  race  and 
nature  from  the  cowering  wretches  who  im- 
plored our  assistance.  Leaning  upon  the 
shattered  taffrail  they  seemed  to  be  conversing 
together  as  quietly  and  unconcernedly  as  though 
they  were  unconscious  of  the  deadly  peril  which 
surrounded  them.  As  the  signal  light  flickered 
over  them  we  could  see  from  the  shore  that 


128 

these  immutable  strangers  wore  red  fezes,  and 
that  their  faces  were  all  of  a  swarthy,  large- 
featured  type,  which  proclaimed  an  eastern 
origin.  There  was  little  time,  however,  for  us 
to  take  note  of  such  details.  The  ship  was 
breaking  rapidly,  and  some  effort  must  be  made 
to  save  the  poor,  sodden  group  of  humanity  who 
implored  our'  assistance.  The  nearest  lifeboat 
was  in  the  Bay  of  Luce,  ten  long  miles  away, 
but  here  was  our  own  broad,  roomy  craft  upon 
the  shingle,  and  plenty  of  brave  fisher  lads  to 
form  a  crew.  Six  of  us  sprang  to  the  oars,  the 
others  pushed  us  off,  and  we  fought  our  way 
through  the  swirling,  raging  waters,  staggering 
and  recoiling  before  the  great,  sweeping  billows, 
but  still  steadily  decreasing  the  distance  between 
the  bark  and  ourselves. 

It  seemed,  however,  that  our  efforts  were 
fated  to  be  in  vain.  As  we  mounted  upon  a 
surge  I  saw  a  giant  wave,  topping  all  the  others, 
and  coming  after  them  like  a  driver  following  a 
flock,  sweep  down  upon  the  vessel,  curling  its 
great,  green  arch  over  the  breaking  deck.  With 
a  rending,  riving  sound  the  ship  split  in  two, 
where  the  terrible  serrated  back  of  the  Hansel 
reef  was  sawing  into  her  keel.  The  after-part 
with  the  broken  mizzen  and  the  three  Orientals 


lank  backwards  into  deep  water  and  vanished, 
while  the  fore-half  oscillated  helplessly  about, 
retaining  its  precarious  balance  upon  the  rocks. 
A  wail  of  fear  went  up  from  the  wreck  and  was 
echoed  from  the  beach,  but  by  the  blessing-  of 
Providence  she  kept  afloat  until  we  made  our 
way  under  her  bowsprit  and  rescued  every  man 
of  the  crew.  We  had  not  got  half  way  upon  our 
return,  however,  when  another  great  wave  swept 
the  shattered  forecastle  off  the  reef,  and  extin- 
guishing the  signal  light,  hid  the  wild  denouement 
from  our  view. 

Our  friends  upon  the  shore  were  loud  in  con. 
gratulation  and  praise,  nor  were  they  backward 
in  welcoming  and  comforting  the  castaways. 
They  were  thirteen  in  all,  as  cold  and  cowed  a 
Bet  of  mortals  as  ever  slipped  through  Death's 
fingers,  save  indeed  their  captain,  who  was  a 
hardy,  robust  man,  and  who  made  light  of  the 
affair.  Some  were  taken  off  to  this  cottage  and 
some  to  that,  but  the  greater  part  came  back  to 
Branksome  with  us,  where  we  gave  them  such 
dry  clothes  as  we  could  lay  our  hands  on,  and 
served  them  with  beef  and  beer  by  the  kitchen 
fire.  The  captain,  whose  name  was  Meadows, 
compressed  his  bulky  form  into  a  suit  of  my  own, 
and  came  down  to  the  parlor,  where  he  mixed 


himself  some  grog  and  gave  my  father  and 
myself  an  account  of  the  disaster. 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  sir,  and  your  brave 
fellows,"  he  said,  smiling  across  at  me,  "  we 
should  be  ten  fathom  deep  by  this  time.  As  to 
the  '  Belinda/  she  was  a  leaky  old  tub  and  well 
insured,  so  neither  the  owners  nor  I  are  likely  to 
break  our  hearts  over  her." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  my  father,  sadly,  "  that  we 
shall  never  see  your  three  passengers  again.  I 
have  left  men  upon  the  beach  in  case  they  should 
be  washed  up,  but  I  fear  it  is  hopeless.  I  saw 
them  go  down  when  the  vessel  split,  and  no  man 
could  have  lived  for  a  moment  among  that  terri- 
ble surge." 

"Who  were  they?"  I  asked.  "I  could  not 
have  believed  that  it  was  possible  for  men  to 
appear  so  unconcerned  in  the  face  of  such 
imminent  peril." 

"  As  to  who  they  are  or  were,"  the  captain 
answered,  puffing  thoughtfully  at  his  pipe,"  that 
is  by  no  means  easy  to  say.  Our  last  port  was 
Kurrachee,  in  the  north  of  India,  and  there  we 
took  them  aboard  as  passengers  for  Glasgow. 
Ram  Singh  was  the  name  of  the  younger,  and  it 
is  only  with  him  that  I  have  come  in  contact, 
but  they  all  appeared  to  be  quiet,  inoffensive 


gentlemen.  I  never  inquired  their  business,  but 
I  should  judge  that  they  were  Parsee  merchants 
from  Hyderabad,  whose  trade  took  them  to 
Europe.  I  could  never  see  why  the  crew  should 
fear  them,  and  the  mate,  too  ;  he  should  have 
had  more  sense." 

"  Fear  them  !"  I  ejaculated  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  they  had  some  preposterous  idea  that 
they  were  dangerous  shipmates.  I  have  no 
doubt  if  you  were  to  go  down  into  the  kitchen 
now,  you  would  find  that  they  are  all  agreed  that 
our  passengers  were  the  cause  of  the  disaster." 

As  the  captain  was  speaking,  the  parlor  door 
opened,  and  the  mate  of  the  bark,  a  tall,  red- 
bearded  sailor,  stepped  in.  He  had  obtained  a 
complete  rig-out  from  some  kind-hearted  fisher- 
man, and  looked  in  his  comfortable  jersey  and 
well-greased  sea-boots  a  very  favorable  specimen 
of  a  shipwrecked  mariner.  With  a  few  words  of 
grateful  acknowledgment  of  our  hospitality  he 
drew  a  chair  up  to  the  fire  and  warmed  his  great, 
brown  hands  before  the  blaze. 

"  What  d'ye  think  now,  Captain  Meadows," 
he  asked  presently,  glancing  up  at  his  superior 
officer.  "  Didn't  I  warn  you  what  would  be  the 
upshot  of  having  those  niggers  on  board  the 
'Belinda?'" 


132 

The  captain  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and 
/aughed  heartily.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  ?"  he  cried, 
appealing  to  us.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  ?" 

"  It  might  have  been  no  laughing  matter  for 
us,"  the  other  remarked,  petulantly.  "  I  have 
lost  a  good  sea-kit  and  nearly  lost  my  life  into 
the  bargain." 

"  Do  I  understand  you  to  say,"  said  I,  "  that 
you  attribute  your  misfortunes  to  your  ill-fated 
passengers?" 

The  mate  opened  his  eyes  at  the  adjective. 
«  Why  ill-fated,  sir?"  he  asked. 

"  Because  they  are  most  certainly  drowned," 
I  answered. 

He  sniffed  incredulously  and  went  on  warm- 
Ing  his  hands.  "  Men  of  that  kind  are  never 
drowned,"  he  said,  after  a  pause.  "  Their  father, 
the  devil,  looks  after  them.  Did  you  see  them 
standing  on  the  poop  and  rolling  cigarettes  at 
the  time  when  the  mizzen  was  carried  away  and 
the  quarter-boats  stove  ?  That  was  enough  for 
me.  I'm  not  surprised  at  you  landsmen  not 
being  able  to  take  it  in,  but  the  captain,  here, 
who's  been  sailing  since  he  was  the  height  of  the 
binnacle,  ought  to  know  by  this  time  that  a  cat 
and  a  priest  are  the  worst  cargo  you  can  carry. 
If  a  Christian  priest  is  bad,  I  guess  au  idolatrous 


133 

pagan  one  is  fifty  times  worse.  I  stand  by  the 
old  religion,  and  be  d — d  to  it  I" 

My  father  and  I  could  not  help  laughing  at 
the  rough  sailor's  very  unorthodox  way  of 
proclaiming  his  orthodoxy.  The  mate,  how- 
ever, was  evidently  in  deadly  earnest,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  state  his  case,  marking  off  the  different 
points  upon  the  rough,  red  fingers  of  his  left 
hand. 

"  It  was  at  Kurrachee,  directly  after  they 
come,  that  I  warned  ye,"  he  said,  reproachfully, 
to  the  captain.  "  There  was  three  Buddhist 
Lascars  in  my  watch,  and  what  did  they  do 
when  them  chaps  come  aboard  ?  Why,  they 
down  on  their  stomachs  and  rubbed  their  noses 
on  the  deck — that's  what  they  did.  They 
wouldn't  ha'  done  as  much  for  an  admiral  of  the 
R'yal  Navy.  They  know  who's  who — these  nig- 
gers do  ;  and  I  smelled  mischief  the  moment  I 
saw  them  on  their  faces.  I  asked  them  after- 
wards in  your  presence,  captain,  why  they  had 
done  it,  and  they  answered  that  the  passengers 
were  holy  men.  You  heard  'em  yourself." 

"  Well,  there's  no  harm  in  that,  Hawkins," 
said  Captain  Meadows. 

"  I  don't  know  that,  the  mate  said,  doubt- 
fully.  "  The  holiest  Christian  is  the  one  that's 


nearest  God,  but  the  holiest  nigger  is,  in  my 
opinion,  the  one  that's  nearest  the  devil.  Then 
you  saw  yourself,  Captain  Meadows,  how  they 
went  on  during  the  voyage,  reading  books  that 
was  writ  on  wood  instead  o'  paper,  and  sitting 
up  right  through  the  night  to  jabber  together  on 
the  quarter-deck.  What  did  they  want  to  have 
a  chart  of  their  own  for  and  to  mark  the  course 
of  the  vessel  every  day  ?" 

"  They  didn't,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Indeed  they  did,  and  if  I  did  not  tell  you 
sooner  it  was  because  you  were  always  ready  to 
laugh  at  what  I  said  about  them.  They  had 
instruments  o'  their  own — when  they  used  them 
I  can't  say — but  every  day  at  noon  they  worked 
out  the  latitude  and  longitude,  and  marked  out 
the  vessel's  position  on  a  chart  that  was  pinned 
on  their  cabin  table.  I  saw  them  at  it,  and  so 
did  the  steward  from  his  pantry." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  what  you  prove  from  that," 
the  captain  remarked,  "  though  I  confess  it  is  a 
strange  thing." 

"  I'll  tell  you  another  strange  thing,"  said  the 
mate,  impressively.  "  Do  you  know  the  name 
of  this  bay  in  which  we  are  cast  away  ?" 

"  I  have  learned  from  our  kind  friends  here 
that  we  arc  upon  the  Wigtownshire  coast,"  the 


135 

captain  answered,  "  but  I  have  not  heard  the 
name  of  the  bay." 

The  mate  leaned  forward  with  a  grave  face. 
"  It  is  the  Bay  of  Kirkmaiden,"  he  said. 

If  he  expected  to  astonish  Captain  Meadows 
he  certainly  succeeded,  for  that  gentleman  was 
fairly  bereft  of  speech  for  a  minute  or  more. 
"  That  is  really  marvellous,"  he  said,  after  a 
time,  turning  to  us.  "  These  passengers  of  ours 
cross-questioned  us  early  in  the  voyage  as  to 
the  existence  of  a  bay  of  that  name.  Hawkins 
here  and  I  denied  all  knowledge  of  one,  for  on 
the  chart  it  is  included  in  the  Bay  of  Luce. 
That  we  should  eventually  be  blown  into  it  and 
destroyed  is  an  extraordinary  coincidence." 

"  Too  extraordinary  to  be  a  coincidence," 
growled  the  mate.  "  I  saw  them  during  the 
calm  yesterday  morning,  pointing  to  the  land 
over  our  starboard  quarter.  They  knew  well 
enough  that  that  was  the  port  they  were  mak- 
ing for." 

"  What  do  you  make  of  it  all,  then,  Hawkins  ?" 
asked  the  captain  with  a  troubled  face ;  "  what 
is  your  own  theory  on  the  matter?" 

"  Why,  in  my  opinion,"  the  mate  answered, 
"  them  three  swabs  have  no  more  difficulty  in 
raising  a  gale  o*  wind  than  I  should  have  in 


1 36 

swallowing  this  here  grog.  They  had  reasons  o* 
their  own  for  coming  to  this  God-forsaken — sav- 
ing your  presence,  sirs — this  God-forsaken  bay, 
and  they  took  a  short  cut  to  it  by  arranging  to 
be  blown  ashore  there.  That's  my  idea  o'  the 
matter,  though  what  three  Buddhist  priests  could 
find  to  do  in  the  Bay  of  Kirkmaiden  is  clean  past 
my  comprehension." 

My  father  raised  his  eyebrows  to  indicate  the 
doubt  which  his  hospitality  forbade  him  from 
putting  into  words.  "  I  think,  gentlemen,"  he 
said,  "  that  you  are  both  sorely  in  need  of  rest 
after  your  perilous  adventures.  If  you  will  fol- 
low me  I  shall  lead  you  to  your  rooms."  He 
conducted  them  with  old-fashioned  ceremony  to 
the  laird's  best  spare  bedroom,  and  then  return- 
ing to  me  in  the  parlor,  proposed  that  we  should 
go  down  together  to  the  beach  and  learn 
whether  anything  fresh  had  occurred. 

The  first  pale  light  of  dawn  was  just  appear- 
ing  in  the  east  when  we  made  our  way  for  the 
second  time  to  the  scene  of  the  shipwreck.  The 
gale  had  blown  itself  out,  but  the  sea  was  still 
very  high,  and  all  inside  the  breakers  was  a 
seething,  gleaming  line  of  foam,  as  though  the 
fierce  old  ocean  was  gnashing  its  white  teeth  at 
the  victims  who  had  escaped  from  its  clutches. 


137 

All  along  the  beach  the  fishermen  and  crofters 
were  hard  at  work  hauling  up  spars  and  barrels 
as  fast  as  they  were  tossed  ashore.  None  of 
them  had  seen  any  bodies,  however,  and  they 
explained  to  us  that  only  such  things  as  could 
float  had  any  chance  of  coming  ashore,  for  the 
undercurrent  was  so  strong  that  whatever  was 
beneath  the  surface  must  infallibly  be  swept  out 
to  sea.  As  to  the  possibility  of  the  unfortnate 
passengers  having  been  able  to  reach  the  shore, 
these  practical  men  would  not  hear  of  it  for  a 
moment,  and  showed  us  conclusively  that  if  they 
had  not  been  drowned  they  must  have  been 
dashed  to  pieces  upon  the  rocks. 

"  We  did  all  that  could  be  done,"  my  father 
said,  as  we  returned  home.  "  I  am  afraid  that 
the  poor  mate  has  had  his  reason  affected  by  the 
suddenness  of  the  disaster.  Did  you  hear  what 
he  said  about  Buddhist  priests  raising  a  gale  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  heard  him,"  said  I. 

"  It  was  very  paintul  to  listen  to  him,"  said  my 
father.  "  I  wonder  if  he  would  object  to  my 
putting  a  small  mustard  plaster  under  each 
of  his  ears.  It  would  relieve  any  congestion  of 
the  brain.  Or  perhaps  it  would  be  best  to  wake 
him  up  and  give  him  two  antibilious  pills.  What 
do  you  think,  Jack?" 


"  I  think,"  said  I  with  a  yawn,  "  that  you  had 
best  let  him  sleep,  and  go  to  sleep  yourself. 
You  can  physic  him  in  the  morning  if  he  needs 
it."  So  saying  I  stumbled  off  to  my  bedroom, 
and  throwing  myself  upon  the  couch,  was  soon 
in  a  dreamless  slumber. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

OF  THE  THREE  FOREIGN  MEN  UPON  THE  COAST. 

IT  must  have  been  eleven  or  twelve  o'clock 
before  I  woke  up,  and  it  seemed  to  me,  in  the 
flood  of  golden  light  which  streamed  into  my 
chamber,  that  the  wild,  tumultuous  episodes  of 
the  night  before  must  have  formed  part  of  some 
fantastic  dream.  It  was  hard  to  believe  that  the 
gentle  breeze  which  whispered  so  softly  among 
the  ivy-leaves  around  my  window  was  caused 
by  the  same  element  which  had  shaken  the  very 
house  a  few  short  hours  before.  It  was  as  if 
Nature  had  repented  of  her  momentary  passion 
and  was  endeavoring  to  make  amends  to  an  in- 
jured world  by  its  warmth  and  its  sunshine.  A 
chorus  of  birds  in  the  garden  below  filled  the 
whole  air  with  their  wonder  and  congratula- 
tions. 

Down  in  the  hall  I  found  a  number  of  the  ship, 
wrecked  sailors,  looking  all  the  better  for  their 
night's  repose, who  setup  a  buzz  of  pleasure  and 
gratitude  upon  seeing  me.  Arrangements  had 
been  made  to  drive  them  to  Wigtown,  whence 


140 

they  were  to  proceed  to  Glasgow  by  the  evea. 
ing  train,  and  my  father  had  given  orders  that 
each  should  be  served  with  a  packet  of  sand- 
wiches and  hard-boiled  eggs  to  sustain  him  on 
the  way.  Captain  Meadows  thanked  us  warmly 
in  the  name  of  his  employers  for  the  manner  in 
which  we  had  treated  them,  and  he  called  for 
three  cheers  from  his  crew,  which  were  very 
heartily  given.  He  and  the  mate  walked  down 
with  us  after  we  had  broken  our  fast,  to  have  a 
last  look  at  the  scene  of  his  disaster. 

The  great  bosom  of  the  bay  was  still  heaving 
convulsively,  and  its  waves  were  breaking  into 
sobs  against  the  rocks,  but  there  was  none  of 
that  wild  turmoil  which  we  had  seen  in  the  early 
morning.  The  long  emerald  ridges,  with  their 
smart  little  cockades  of  foam,  rolled  slowly  and 
majestically  in,  to  break  with  a  regular  rhythm 
— the  panting  of  a  tired  monster.  A  cable 
length  from  the  shore,  we  could  see  the  main- 
mast of  the  bark  floating  upon  the  waves,  dis- 
appearing at  times  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  and 
then  shooting  up  towards  heaven  like  a  giant 
javelin,  as  the  rollers  tossed  it  about.  Other 
smaller  pieces  of  wreckage  dotted  the 
waters,  while  innumerable  spars  and  packages 
were  littered  over  the  sands.  These  were 


141 

being  drawn  up  and  collected  in  a  place  of  safety 
by  gangs  of  peasants.  I  noticed  that  a  couple  of 
broad-winged  gulls  were  hovering  and  skimming 
over  the  scene  of  the  shipwreck  as  though  many 
strange  things  were  visible  to  them  beneath  the 
waves.  At  times  we  could  hear  their  raucous 
voices  as  they  spoke  to  one  another  of  what  they 
saw. 

"  She  was  a  leaky  old  craft,"  said  the  captain, 
looking  sadly  out  to  sea  ;  "  but  there's  always  a 
feeling  of  sorrow  when  we  see  the  last  of  a  ship 
we  have  sailed  in.  Well,  well,  she  would  have 
been  broken  up  in  any  case,  and  sold  for  fire- 
wood." 

"  It  looks  a  peaceful  scene,"  I  remarked. 
"  Who  would  imagine  that  three  men  lost  their 
lives  last  night  in  those  very  waters?" 

"Poor  fellows,"  said  the  captain,  with  feeling. 
"  Should  they  be  cast  up  after  our  departure,  I 
am  sure,  Mr.  West,  that  you  will  have  them 
decently  interred.'* 

I  was  about  to  make  some  reply  when  the 
mate  burst  into  a  loud  guffaw,  slapping  his  thigh 
and  choking  with  merriment.  "If  you  want  to 
bury  them,"  he  said,  "you  had  best  look  sharp, 
or  they  may  clear  out  of  the  country.  You 
remember  what  I  said  last  night.  Just  lo.Q.k  at 


143 

the  top  of  that  'ere  hillock,  and  tell  me  whether 
I  was  in  the  right  or  not?" 

There  was  a  high  sand  dune  some  little  dis- 
tance  along  the  coast,  and  upon  the  summit  of 
this  the  figure  was  standing  which  had  attracted 
the  mate's  attention.  The  captain  threw  up  his 
hands  in  astonishment  as  his  eyes  rested  upon  it. 
"  By  the  eternal,"  he  shouted,  "  it's  Ram  Singh 
himself  I  Let  us  overhaul  him  1"  Taking  to  his 
heels  in  his  excitement  he  raced  along  the  beach, 
followed  by  the  mate  and  myself,  as  well  as  by 
one  or  two  of  the  fishermen  who  had  observed 
the  presence  of  the  stranger.  The  latter,  per. 
ceiving  our  approach,  came  down  from  his  post 
of  observation  and  walked  quietly  in  our  direc- 
tion, with  his  head  sunk  upon  his  breast,  like  one 
who  is  absorbed  in  thought. 

I  could  not  help  contrasting  our  hurried  and 
tumultuous  advance  with  the  gravity  and  dignity 
of  this  lonely  Oriental,  nor  was  the  matter 
mended  when  he  raised  a  pair  of  steady,  thought- 
ful dark  eyes  and  inclined  his  head  in  a  graceful, 
sweeping  salutation.  It  seemed  to  me  that  we 
were  like  a  pack  of  schoolboys  in  the  presence 
of  a  master.  The  stranger's  broad,  unruffled 
brow,  his  clear,  searching  gaze,  firm-set  yet  sensi- 
tive mouth,  and  clean-cut,  resolute  expression, 


MS 

all  combined  to  form  the  most  imposing  and 
noble1  presence  which  I  have  ever  known.  I 
could  not  have  imagined  that  such  imperturbable 
calm  and  at  the  same  time  such  a  consciousness 
of  latent  strength  could  have  been  expressed  by 
any  human  face.  He  was  dressed  in  a  brown 
velveteen  coat,  loose,  dark  trousers,  with  a  shirt 
which  was  cut  low  in  the  collar,  so  as  to  show 
the  muscular  brow  neck,  and  he  still  wore  the 
red  fez  which  I  had  noticed  the  night  before.  I 
observed  with  a  feeling  of  surprise,  as  we 
approached  him,  that  none  of  these  garments 
showed  the  slightest  indication  of  the  rough 
treatment  and  wetting  which  they  must  have 
received  during  their  wearer's  submersion  and 
struggle  to  the  shore. 

"  So  you  are  none  the  worse  for  your  ducking,'* 
he  said  in  a  pleasant,  musical  voice,  looking  from 
the  captain  to  the  mate.  "  I  hope  that  all  your 
poor  sailors  have  found  pleasant  quarters." 

"  We  are  all  safe,"  the  captain  answered. 
"  But  we  had  given  you  up  for  lost — you  and  your 
two  friends.  Indeed  I  was  just  making  arrange- 
ments for  your  burial  with  Mr.  West  here." 

The  stranger  looked  at  me  and  smiled.  "  We 
won't  give  Mr.  West  that  trouble  for  a  little 
time  yet,"  he  remarked  :  "  my  friends  and  I  came1 


144 

ashore  all  safe,  and  we  have  found  shelter  in  a 
hut  a  mile  or  so  down  the  coast.  It  is  lonely 
down  there,  but  we  have  everything  which  we 
*can  desire." 

"  We  start  for  Glasgow  this  afternoon,"  said 
the  captain  ;  "  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  will 
come  with  us.  If  you  have  not  been  in  England 
before  you  may  find  it  awkward  traveling 
alone." 

"  We  are  very  much  indebted  to  you  for  your 
thoughtfulness,"  Ram  Singh  answered;  "  but 
we  will  not  take  advantage  of  your  kind  offer. 
Since  Nature  has  driven  us  here  we  intend  to 
have  a  look  about  us  before  we  leave." 

"As  you  like,"  the  captain  said,  shrugging  his 
shoulders.  "  I  don't  think  you  are  likely  to  fin«* 
very  much  to  interest  you  in  this  hole  of  a 
place." 

*  Very  possibly  not,"  Ram  Singh  answered 
>nth  an  amused  smile.  "  You  remember  Milton's 
Macs: 

•The mind  is  (ts  own  place,  and  In  itself 
Can  make  a  hell  of  heaven,  a  heaven  of  helL' 

I  daresay  we  can  spend  a  few  days  here  com. 
fortably  enough.  Indeed,  I  think  }rou  must  bo 
Wrong  in  considering  this  to  be  a  barbarous 
locality.  I  am  much  mistaken  if  this  young 


us 

gentleman's  father  is  not  Mr.  James  Hunter 
West,  whose  name  is  known  and  honored  by  the 
pundits  of  India." 

"  My  father  is,  indeed,  a  well-known  Sanscrit 
scholar,"  I  answered,  in  astonishment. 

"  The  presence  of  such  a  man,"  observed  the 
stranger,  slowly,  "  changes  a  wilderness  into  a 
city.  One  great  mind  is  surely  a  higher  indica- 
tion of  civilization  than  are  incalculable  leagues 
of  bricks,  and  mortar.  Your  father  is  hardly  as 
profound  as  Sir  William  Jones,  or  as  universal 
as  the  Baron  Von  Hammer-Purgstall,  but  he 
combines  many  of  the  virtues  of  each.  You  may 
tell  him,  however,  from  me  that  he  is  mistaken 
in  the  analogy  which  he  has  traced  between  the 
Samoyede  and  Tamulic  word  roots." 

"  If  you  have  determined  to  honor  our  neigh- 
borhood by  a  short  stay,"  said  I,  "  you  will  of- 
fend  my  father  very  much  if  you  do  not  put  up 
with  him.  He  represents  the  laird  here,  and  it 
is  the  laird's  privilege,  according  to  our  Scottish 
custom,  to  entertain  all  strangers  of  repute  who 
visit  his  parish."  My  sense  of  hospitality 
prompted  me  to  deliver  this  invitation,  though  I 
could  feel  the  mate  twitching  at  my  sleeve  as 
if  to  warn  me  that  the  offer  was,  for  some  reason, 
an  objectionable  one.  His  fears  mere,  however, 


unnecessary,  for  the  stranger  signified  by  a  shako 
of  the  head  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
accept  it. 

"  My  friends  and  I  are  very  much  obliged  to 
you,"  he  said,  "  but  we  have  our  own  reasons  for 
remaining  where  we  are.  The  hut  which  we 
occupy  is  deserted  and  partly  ruined,  but  we 
Easterns  have  trained  ourselves  to  do  without 
most  of  those  things  which  are  looked  upon  as 
necessaries  in  Europe,  believing  firmly  in  that 
wise  axiom  that  a  man  is  rich,  not  in  proportion 
to  what  he  has,  but  in  proportion  to  what  he  can 
dispense  with.  A  good  fisherman  supplies  us 
with  bread  and  with  herbs,  we  have  clean,  dry 
straw  for  our  couches,  what  could  man  wish  for 
more  ?" 

"  But  you  must  feel  the  cold  at  night,  coming 
straight  from  the  tropics,"  remarked  the  cap- 
tain. 

"  Perhaps  our  bodies  are  cold  sometimes.  We 
have  not  noticed  it.  We  have  all  three  spent 
many  years  in  the  Upper  Himalayas,  on  the 
border  of  the  region  of  eternal  snow,  so  we  are 
not  very  sensitive  to  inconveniences  of  the  sort.*' 

"  At  least,"  said  I,  "  you  must  allow  me  to  send 
you  over  some  fish  and  some  meat  from  our 
larder." 


147 

"  We  are  not  Christians,"  he  answered,  "  but 
Buddhists  of  the  higher  school.  We  do  not 
recognize  that  man  has  a  moral  right  to  slay  an 
ox  or  a  fish  for  the  gross  use  of  his  human  body. 
He  has  not  put  life  into  them,  and  has  assuredly 
no  mandate  from  the  Almighty  to  take  life  from 
them  save  under  the  most  pressing  need.  We 
could  not,  therefore,  use  your  gift  if  you  were  to 
send  it." 

"  But,  sir,"  1  remonstrated,  "  if  in  this  change- 
able and  inhospitable  climate  you  refuse  all 
nourishing  food,  your  vitality  will  fail  you — you 
will  die." 

"  We  shall  die,  then,"  he  answered,  with  a 
bright  smile.  "  And  now,  Captain  Meadows,  I 
must  bid  you  adieu,  thanking  you  for  your  kind- 
ness  during  the  voyage,  and  you,  too,  good-by— 
you  will  command  a  ship  of  your  own  before  the 
year  is  out.  I  trust,  Mr.  West,  that  I  may  see 
you  again  before  I  leave  this  part  of  the  country. 
Farewell !" 

He  raised  his  red  fez,  inclined  his  noble  head 
with  the  stately  grace  which  characterized  all 
his  actions,  and  strode  away  in  the  direction  from 
which  he  had  come. 

"  Let  me  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Hawkins," 
said  the  captain  to  the  mate,  as  we  walked  home 


148 

wards.  "  You  are  to  command  your  own  ship 
within  the  year." 

"  No  such  luck,"  the  mate  answered,  with  a 
pleased  smile  upon  his  mahogany  face  ;  "  still 
there's  no  saying  how  things  may  come  out. 
What  d'ye  think  of  him,  Mr.  West !" 

"  Why,"  said  I,  "  I  am  very  much  interested  in 
him.  What  a  magnificent  head  and  bearing  he 
has  for  a  young  man.  I  suppose  he  cannot  be 
more  than  thirty." 

"  Forty,"  said  the  mate. 

"  Sixty,  if  he  is  a  day,"  remarked  Captain 
Meadows.  "  Why,  I  have  heard  him  talk  quite 
familiarly  of  the  first  Afghan  war.  He  was  a 
man  then,  and  that  is  close  on  forty  years  ago." 

"  Wonderful !"  I  ejaculated.  "  His  skin  is  as 
smooth  and  his  eyes  are  as  clear  as  mine  are. 
He  is  the  superior  priest  of  the  three,  no  doubt." 

"  The  inferior,"  said  the  captain,  confidently. 
"  That  is  why  he  does  all  the  talking  for  them. 
Their  minds  are  too  elevated  to  descend  to  mere 
worldly  chatter." 

"  They  are  the  strangest  pieces  of  flotsam  and 
jetsam  that  ever  was  thrown  upon  this  coast,"  I 
remarked.  "  My  father  will  be  mightily  inter, 
ested  in  them.*' 

"  Indeed,  I  think  the  fesy  **ou  have  to  do  with 


149 

them  the  better  for  you,"  said  the  mate.  "  If  I 
do  command  my  own  ship  I'll  promise  you  that 
I  never  carry  live  stock  of  that  sort  on  board  of 
her.  But  here  we  are  all  aboard  and  the  anchor 
tripped,  so  we  must  bid  you  good-by." 

The  wagonette  had  just  finished  loading  up 
when  we  arrived,  and  the  chief  places,  on  either 
side  of  the  driver,  had  been  reserved  for  my  two 
companions,  who  speedily  sprang  into  them. 
With  a  chorus  of  cheers  the  good  fellows  whirled 
away  down  the  road,  while  my  father,  Esther 
and  I  stood  upon  the  lawn  and  waved  our  hands 
to  them  until  they  disappeared  behind  the 
Cloomber  woods,  en  route  for  the  Wigtown  rail- 
way  station.  Bark  and  crew  had  both  vanished 
now  from  our  little  world,  the  only  relic  of  either 
being  the  heaps  of  debris  upon  the  beach,  which 
were  to  lie  there  until  the  arrival  of  an  agent 
from  Lloyd's. 


i$o 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

IN  WHICH  I  SEE  THAT  WHICH  HAS  BEEN  SEEN   BY- 
FEW. 

AT  dinner  that  evening  I  mentioned  to  my 
father  the  episode  of  the  three  Buddhist  priests, 
and  found,  as  I  had  expected,  that  he  was  very 
much  interested  by  my  account  of  them.  When, 
however,  he  heard  of  the  high  manner  in  which 
Ram  Singh  had  spoken  of  him,  and  the  dis- 
tinguished position  which  he  had  assigned  him 
among  philologists,  he  became  so  excited  that  it 
was  all  we  could  do  to  prevent  him  from  setting 
off  then  and  there  to  make  his  acquaintance. 
Esther  and  I  were  relieved  and  glad  when  we 
at  last  succeeded  in  abstracting  his  boots  and 
maneuvering  him  to  his  bedroom,  for  the  excit- 
ing events  of  the  last  twenty-four  hours  had 
been  too  much  for  his  weak  frame  and  delicate 
nerves. 

I  was  sitting  at  the  open  porch  in  the  gloam- 
ing, turning  over  in  my  mind  the  unexpected 
events  which  had  occurred  so  rapidly — the  gale, 
the  wreck,  the  rescue,  and  the  strange  character 


of  the  castaways — when  my  sister  came  quietly 
over  to  me  and  put  her  hand  in  mine. 

"  Don't  you  think,  Jack,"  she  said,  in  her  low, 
sweet  voice,  "  that  we  are  forgetting  our  friends 
over  at  Cloomber?  Hasn't  all  this  excitement 
driven  their  fears  and  their  danger  out  oi  our 
heads  ?" 

<k  Cut  of  our  heads,  but  never  out  of  our 
hearts,"  said  I,  laughing.  "  However,  you  are 
right,  little  one,  for  our  attention  has  certainly 
been  distracted  from  them.  I  shall  walk  up  in 
the  morning  and  see  if  1  can  see  anything  of 
them.  By  the  way,  to-morrow  is  the  fateful  5th 
of  October — one  more  day  and  all  will  be  well 
with  us." 

"  Or  ill,"  said  my  sister,  gloomily. 

"  Why,  what  a  little  croaker  you  are,  to  be 
sure  !"  I  cried.  "  What  in  the  world  is  coming 
over  you  ?" 

"  I  feel  nervous  and  low-spirited,"  she 
answered,  drawing  closer  to  my  side  and  shiver- 
ing. "  I  feel  as  if  some  great  peril  were  hanging 
over  the  heads  of  those  we  love.  Why  should 
these  strange  men  wish  to  stay  upon  the 
coast  ?" 

"What,  the  Buddhists?"  I  said,  lightly. 
"  Oh,  these  fellows  have  continual  feast  days 


152 

and  religious  rites  of  all  sorts.  They  have 
some  very  good  reason  for  staying,  you  may  be 
sure." 

"Don't  you  think,"  said  Esther,  in  an  awe- 
struck whisper, "  that  it  is  very  strange  that  these 
priests  should  arrive  here  all  the  way  from  India 
just  at  the  present  moment  ?  Have  you  not 
gathered  from  all  you  have  heard  that  the  gen- 
eral's fears  are  in  some  way  connected  with  India 
and  the  Indians?" 

The  remark  made  me  thoughtful.  "  Why,  now 
that  you  mention  it,"  I  answered,  "  I  have  some 
vague  impression  that  the  mystery  is  connected 
with  some  incident  which  occurred  in  that 
country.  I  am  sure,  however,  that  your  fears 
would  vanish  if  you  saw  Ram  Singh.  He  is  the 
very  personification  of  wisdom  and  benevolence. 
He  was  shocked  at  the  idea  of  our  killing  a  sheep, 
or  even  a  fish  for  his  benefit — said  he  would 
rather  die  than  have  a  hand  in  taking  the  life  of 
an  animal." 

"  It  is  very  foolish  of  me  to  be  so  nervous,"  said 
my  sister,  bravely.  "  But  you  must  promise  me 
one  thing,  Jack.  You  will  go  up  to  Cloomberin 
the  morning,  and  if  you  can  see  any  of  them  you 
must  tell  them  of  these  strange  neighbors  of 
ours.  They  are  better  able  to  judge  than  we  are 


153 

whether  their  oresence  has  any  significance  or 
not." 

"  All  right,  little  one,"  I  answered,  as  we  went 
indoors.  "  You  have  been  over-excited  by  all 
these  wild  doings,  and  you  need  a  sound  night's 
rest  to  compose  you.  I'll  do  what  you  suggest, 
however,  and  our  friends  shall  judge  for  them- 
selves whether  these  poor  devils  should  be  sent 
about  their  business  or  not." 

I  made  the  promise  to  allay  my  sister's  appre- 
hensions, but  in  the  bright  sunlight  of  morning 
it  appeared  little  less  than  absurd  to  imagine 
that  our  poor,  vegetarian  castaways  could  have 
any  sinister  intentions,  or  that  their  ad  vent  could 
have  any  effect  upon  the  tenant  of  Cloomber.  I 
was  anxious  myself,  however,  to  see  whether  I 
could  see  anything  of  the  Heatherstones,  so  after 
breakfast  I  walked  up  to  the  Hall.  In  their 
seclusion  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  have 
learned  anything  of  the  recent  events.  I  felt, 
therefore,  that  even  if  I  should  meet  the  general 
he  could  hardly  regard  me  as  an  intruder  while 
I  had  so  much  news  to  communicate. 

The  place  had  the  same  dreary  and  melan- 
choly appearance  which  always  characterized  it. 
Looking  through  between  the  thick  iron  bars  of 
the  main  gateway  there  was  nothing  to  be  seea 


154 

of  any  of  the  occupants.  One  of  the  great 
Scotch  firs  had  been  blown  down  in  the  gale,  and 
its  long,  ruddy  trunk  lay  right  across  the  grass- 
grown  avenue  ;  but  no  attempt  had  been  made 
to  remove  it.  Everything  about  the  property 
had  the  same  air*  of  desolation  and  neglect,  with 
the  solitary  exception  of  the  massive  and  impen- 
etrable fencing,  which  presented  as  unbroken 
and  formidable  an  obstacle  as  ever  to  the  would- 
be  trespasser. 

I  walked  round  this  barrier  as  far  as  our  old 
trysting-place  without  finding  any  flaw  through 
which  1  could  get  a  glimpse  of  the  house,  for 
the  fence  had  been  erected  with  each  rail  over- 
lapping the  last,  so  as  to  secure  absolute  privacy 
for  those  inside.  At  the  old  spot,  however, 
where  I  had  had  the  memorable  interview  with 
the  general  on  the  occasion  when  he  surprised 
me  with  his  daughter,  I  found  that  the  two 
loose  rails  had  been  refixed  in  such  a  manner 
that  there  was  a  gap  of  two  inches  or  more 
between  them.  Through  this  I  had  a  view  of 
the  house  and  of  part  of  the  lawn  in  front  of  it, 
and  though  I  could  see  no  signs  of  life  outside 
or  at  any  of  the  windows,  I  settled  down  with 
the  intention  of  sticking  to  my  post  until  I  had  a 
chance  of  speaking  to  one  or  other  of  the  in* 


mates.  Indeed,  the  cold,  dead  aspect  of  the 
house  had  struck  such  a  chill  into  my  heart  that 
I  determined  to  scale  the  fence  at  whatever  risk 
of  incurring  the  general's  displeasure  rather 
than  return  without  news  of  the  Heatherstones. 

Happily  there  was  no  need  of  this  extreme 
expedient,  for  I  had  not  been  there  half-an-hour 
before  I  heard  the  harsh  sound  of  an  opening 
lock,  and  the  general  himself  emerged  from  the 
main  door.  To  my  surprise  he  was  dressed  in  a 
military  uniform — and  that  not  the  uniform  in 
ordinary  use  in  the  British  army.  The  red  coat 
was  strangely  cut  and  stained  with  the  weather. 
The  trousers  had  originally  been  white,  but  had 
now  faded  to  a  dirty  yellow.  With  a  red  sash 
across  his  chest  and  a  straight  sword  hanging 
from  his  side  he  stood  the  living  example  of  a 
by-gone  type — the  John  Company's  officer  of 
forty  years  ago.  He  was  followed  by  the  ex- 
tramp,  Corporal  Rufus  Smith,  now  well  clad 
and  prosperous,  who  limped  along  beside  his 
master,  the  two  pacing  up  and  down  the  lawn 
absorbed  in  conversation.  I  observed  that  from 
time  to  time  one  or  other  of  them  would  pause 
and  glance  furtively  all  about  them,  as  though 
guarding  keenly  against  a  surprise. 

I  should  have  preferred  communicating  with 


IS* 

the  general  alone,  but  since  there  was  no  disso- 
ciating him  from  his  companion,  I  beat  loudly 
on  the  fencing  with  my  stick  to  attract  their 
attention.  They  both  faced  round  in  a  moment, 
and  I  could  see  from  their  gestures  that  they 
were  disturbed  and  alarmed.  I  then  elevated 
my  stick  above  the  barrier  to  show  them  where 
the  sound  proceeded  from.  At  this  the  general 
began  to  walk  in  my  direction  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  is  bracing  himself  for  an  effort,  but  the 
other  caught  him  by  the  wrist  and  endeavored 
to  dissuade  him.  It  was  only  when  I  shouted 
out  my  name  and  assured  them  that  I  was  alone 
that  I  could  prevail  upon  them  to  approach. 
Once  assured  of  my  identity  the  general  ran 
eagerly  towards  me  and  greeted  me  with  the 
utmost  cordiality. 

"  This  is  truly  kind  of  you,  West,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  only  at  such  times  as  these  that  one  can 
judge  who  is  a  friend  and  who  not.  It  would 
not  be  fair  to  you  to  ask  you  to  come  inside  or 
to  stay  any  time,  but  I  am  none  the  less  very 
glad  to  see  you." 

"  I  have  been  anxious  about  you  all,"  I  said  ; 
"for  it  is  some  little  time  since  I  have  seen  or 
heard  from  any  of  you.  How  have  you  all  been 
keeping  ?"  , 


157 

"  Why,  as  well  as  could  be  expected.  But  w« 
will  be  better  to-morrow — we  will  be  different 
men  to-morrow,  eh,  corporal  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  corporal,  raising  his  hand 
to  his  forehead  in  a  military  salute.  "  We'll  be 
right  as  the  bank  to-morrow." 

"  The  corporal  and  I  are  a  little  disturbed  in 
our  minds  just  now, "the  general  explained,  "  but 
I  have  no  doubt  that  all  will  come  right.  After 
all,  there  is  nothing  higher  than  Providence,  and 
we  are  all  in  its  hands.  And  how  have  you 
been,  eh  ?" 

"  We  have  been  very  busy  for  one  thing,"  said 
I.  "  I  suppose  you  have  heard  nothing  of  the 
great  shipwreck  ?" 

"  Not  a  word,"  the  general  answered,  listlessly. 

"  I  thought  the  noise  of  the  wind  would  pre- 
vent you  hearing  the  signal  guns.  She  came 
ashore  in  the  bay  the  night  before  last — a  great 
bark  from  India." 

"From  India!"  ejaculated  the  general. 

"  Yes.  Her  crew  were  saved,  fortunately, 
and  have  all  been  sent  on  to  Glasgow." 

"  All  sent  on  !"  cried  the  general,  with  a  face 
as  bloodless  as  a  corpse. 

4<  All  except  three  rather  strange  characters 
who  claim  to  be  Buddhist  priests.  They  have 


I58 

decided  to  remain  for  a  few  days  upon  the 
coast." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  my  mouth  when 
the  general  dropped  upon  his  knees  with  his 
long,  thin  arms  extended  to  heaven.  "  Thy  will 
be  done!"  he  cried  in  a  crackling  voice.  "Thy 
blessed  will  be  done !"  I  could  see  through  the 
crack  that  Corporal  Rufus  Smith's  face  had 
turned  to  a  sickly  yellow  shade,  and  that  he  was 
wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

"  It's  like  my  luck  !"  he  said.  "  After  all  these 
years,  to  come  just  when  I  have  got  a  snug 
billet." 

"  Never  mind,  my  lad,"  the  general  said,  rising 
and  squaring  his  shoulders  like  a  man  who  braces 
himself  for  an  effort.  "  Be  it  what  it  may  we'll 
face  it  as  British  soldiers  should.  D'ye  remem- 
ber at  Chillianwallah,  when  you  had  to  run  from 
your  guns  to  our  square,  and  the  Sikh  horse 
came  thundering  down  on  our  bayonets  ?  We 
didn't  flinch  then,  and  we  won't  flinch  now.  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  feel  better  than  I  have  done 
for  years.  It  was  the  uncertainty  that  was  kill- 
ing me," 

"  And  the  infernal  jingle-jangle,"  said  the  cor- 
poral.  "  Well,  we  all  go  together — that's  some 
consolation." 


159 

"  Good-bye,  West,"  said  the  general.  "  Be  a 
good  husband  to  Gabriel,  and  give  my  poor  wife 
a  home.  I  don't  think  she  will  trouble  you  long. 
Good-bye  !  God  bless  you  !" 

"  Look  here,  general,"  I  said,  peremptorily, 
breaking  off  a  piece  of  wood  to  make  communi- 
cation more  easy,  "  this  sort  of  thing  has  been 
going  on  too  long.  What  are  these  hints  and 
allusions  and  innuendoes?  It  is  time  we  had  a 
little  plain  speaking.  What  is  it  you  fear?  Out 
with  it !  Are  you  in  dread  of  these  Hindoos  ? 
If  you  are  I  am  able,  on  my  father's  authority,  to 
have  them  arrested  as  rogues  and  vagabonds." 

"  No,  no,  that  would  never  do,"  he  answered, 
shaking  his  head.  "You  will  learn  about  the 
wretched  business  soon  enough.  Mordaunt 
knows  where  to  lay  his  hand  upon  the  papers 
bearing  on  the  matter.  You  can  consult  him 
about  it  to-morrow." 

"  But  surely,"  I  cried,  "  if  the  per:'  1  is  so  immi- 
nent something  may  be  done  to  aver*,  it.  If  you 
would  but  tell  me  what  you  fear  I  should  know 
how  to  act." 

"  My  dear  friend,"  he  said,  "  there  is  nothing 
to  be  done,  so  calm  yourself;  and  let  things  take 
their  course.  It  has  been  folly  on  my  part  to 
shelter  myself  behind  ro<?re  barriers  of  wood  and 


i6o 

stone.  The  fact  is,  that  inaction  was  terrible  to 
me,  and  I  felt  that  to  do  anything,  however 
futile,  in  the  nature  of  a  precaution,  was  better 
than  passive  resignation.  My  humble  friend 
here  and  I  have  placed  ourselves  in  a  position  in 
which,  I  trust,  no  poor  fellow  will  ever  find  him- 
self again.  We  can  only  recommend  ourselves 
to  the  unfailing  goodness  of  the  Almighty,  and 
trust  that  what  we  have  endured  in  this  world 
may  lessen  our  atonement  in  the  world  to  come. 
I  must  leave  you  now,  for  I  have  many  papers 
to  destroy  and  much  to  arrange.  Good-bye." 
He  pushed  his  hand  through  the  hole  which  I 
had  made  and  grasped  mine  in  a  solemn  farewell, 
after  which  he  walked  back  to  the  Hall  with  a 
firm  and  decided  step,  still  followed  by  the 
crippled  corporal. 

I  walked  back  to  Branksome  much  disturbed 
by  this  interview,  and  extremely  puzzled  as  to 
what  course  I  should  pursue.  It  was  evident 
now  that  my  sister's  suspicions  were  correct,  and 
that  there  was  some  very  intimate  connection 
between  the  presence  of  the  three  Orientals  and 
the  mysterious  peril  which  hung  over  the  towers 
of  Cloomber.  It  was  difficult  for  me  to  associate 
the  noble-faced  Ram  Singh's  gentle,  refined 
manner  and  words  of  wisdom  with  any  d«ed  of 


Violence ;  yet  now  that  I  thought  of  it  I  could 
see  that  a  terrible  capacity  for  wrath  lay  behind 
his  shaggy  brows  and  dark,  piercing  eyes.  I 
felt  that  of  all  men  whom  I  had  ever  met  he  was 
the  one  whose  displeasure  I  should  least  care  to 
face.  But  how  could  two  men  so  widely 
dissociated  as  the  foul-mouthed  old  corporal  of 
artillery  and  the  distinguished  Anglo-Indian 
general  have  each  earned  the  ill-will  of  these 
strange  castaways?  And  if  the  danger  was  a 
positive,  physical  one,  why  should  he  not  consent 
to  my  proposal  to  have  the  three  men  placed 
under  custody  ?  though  I  confess  it  would  have 
gone  much  against  my  grain  to  act  in  so  inhos- 
pitable a  manner  upon  such  vague  and  shadowy 
grounds.  These  questions  were  absolutely  un- 
answerable ;  and  yet  the  solemn  words  and  the 
terrible  gravity  which  I  had  seen  in  the  faces  of 
both  the  old  soldiers  forbade  me  from  thinking 
that  their  fears  were  entirely  unfounded.  It 
was  all  a  puzzle — an  absolutely  insoluble  puzzle. 
One  thing  at  least  was  clear  to  me — and  that  was 
tha2  in  the  present  state  of  my  knowledge,  and 
after  the  general's  distinct  prohibition,  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  interfere  in  any  way.  I 
could  only  wait  and  pray  that,  whatever  the 
danger  might  be,  it  might  pass  over,  or  at  least 


162 

that  my  dear  Gabriel  and  her  brother  might  be 
protected  against  it. 

I  was  walking  down  the  lane  lost  in  thought, 
and  had  got  as  far  as  the  wicket  gate  which 
opens  upon  the  Branksome  lawn,  when  I  was 
surprised  to  hear  my  father's  voice  raised  in 
most  animated  and  excited  converse.  The  old 
man  had  been  of  late  so  abstracted  from  the 
daily  affairs  of  the  world,  and  so  absorbed  in  his 
own  special  studies,  that  it  was  difficult  to  engage 
his  attention  upon  any  ordinary  mundane  topic. 
Curious  to  know  what  it  was  that  had  drawn  him 
so  far  out  of  himself,  I  opened  the  gate  softly, 
and  walking  quietly  round  the  laurel  bushes, 
found  him  sitting,  to  my  astonishment,  with  none 
other  than  the  very  man  who  was  occupying  my 
thoughts,  Ram  Singh,  the  Buddhist.  The  two 
were  sitting  upon  a  garden  bench,  and  the 
Oriental  appeared  to  be  laying  down  some 
weighty  proposition,  checking  every  point  upon 
his  long,  quivering,  brown  fingers,  while  mj 
father,  with  his  hands  thrown  abroad  and  his  face 
awry,  was  loud  in  protestation  and  in  argument. 
So  absorbed  were  they  in  their  controversy  that 
I  stood  within  a  hand-touch  of  them  for  a  minute 
or  more  before  they  became  conscious  of  my 
presence.  On  observing  me  the  priest  sprang  to 


his  feet  and  greeted  me  with  the  same  lofty 
courtesy  and  dignified  grace  which  had  so 
impressed  me  the  day  before. 

"  I  promised  myself  yesterday,"  he  said,  "  the 
pleasure  of  calling  upon  your  father.  You  see  I 
nave  kept  my  word.  I  have  even  been  daring 
enough  to  question  his  views  upon  some  points 
in  connection  with  the  Sanscrit  and  Hindoo 
tongues,  with  the  result  that  we  have  been  argu- 
ing for  an  hour  or  more  without  either  of  us 
convincing  the  other.  Without  pretending  to 
as  deep  a  theoretical  knowledge  as  that  which 
has  made  the  name  of  James  Hunter  West  a 
household  word  among  Oriental  scholars,  I  hap- 
pen to  have  given  considerable  attention  to  this 
one  point,  and  indeed  I  am  in  a  position  to  say 
that  I  know  his  views  to  be  unsound.  I  assure 
you,  sir,  that  up  to  the  year  700,  or  even  later, 
Sanscrit  was  the  ordinary  language  of  the  great 
bulk  of  the  inhabitants  of  India." 

"  And  I  assure  you,  sir,"  said  my  father  warmly, 
"  that  it  was  dead  and  forgotten  at  that  date, 
save  by  the  learned  who  used  it  as  a  vehicle  for 
scientific  and  religious  works — just  as  Latin  was 
used  in  the  middle  ages  long  after  it  had  ceased 
to  be  spoken  by  any  European  nation." 

"  If  you   will  consult  the   puranas  you   will 


i64 

find,"  said  Ram  Singh,  "  that  this  theory,  though 
commonly  received,  is  entirely  untenable." 

"And  if  you  will  consult  the  Ramayana,  and 
more  particularly  the  canonical  books  on  Budd- 
hist discipline,"  cried  my  father,  "  you  will  find 
that  the  theory  is  unassailable." 

"  But  look  at  the  Kullavagga,"  said  our  visitor, 
earnestly. 

"  And  look  at  King  Asoka,"  shouted  my  father, 
triumphantly.  "  When,  in  the  year  300  before 
the  Christian  era — before,  mind  you — he  ordered 
the  laws  of  Buddha  to  be  engraved  upon  the 
rocks,  what  language  did  he  employ,  eh  ?  Was 
it  Sanscrit? — no  !  And  why  was  it  not  Sanscrit? 
Because  the  lower  orders  of  his  subjects  would 
not  have  been  able  to  understand  a  word  of  it. 
Ha  I  ha  !  That  was  the  reason.  How  are  you 
going  to  get  round  King  Asoka's  edict,  eh?" 

"  He  carved  them  in  the  various  dialects," 
Ram  Singh  answered.  "  But  energy  is  too  pre- 
cious a  thing  to  be  wasted  in  mere  wind  in  this 
style.  The  sun  has  passed  its  meridian,  and  I 
must  return  to  my  companions." 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  have  not  brought  them 
to  see  us,"  said  my  father,  courteously.  He  was, 
I  could  see,  uneasy  lest  in  the  eagerness  of  debate 
he  had  overstepped  the  bounds  of  hospitality. 


"  They  do  not  mix  with  the  world,"  Ram 
Singh  answered,  rising  to  his  feet.  "  They  are 
of  a  higher  grade  than  I,  and  more  sensitive  to 
contaminating  influences.  They  are  immersed 
in  a  six  months'  meditation  upon  the  mystery  of 
the  third  incarnation,  which  has  lasted  from  the 
time  that  we  left  the  Himalayas.  I  shall  not  see 
you  again,  Mr.  Hunter  West,  and  I  therefore  bid 
you  farewell.  Your  old  age  will  be  a  happy 
one,  as  it  deserves  to  be,  and  your  Eastern  stud- 
ies Will  have  a  lasting  effect  upon  the  knowledge 
and  literature  of  your  own  country.  Farewell !" 

44  And  am  I  also  to  see  no  more  of  you  ?"  I 
asked. 

"  Unless  you  will  walk  with  me  along  the  sea- 
shore," he  answered.  "  But  you  have  already 
been  out  this  morning,  and  may  be  tired.  I  ask 
too  much  of  you." 

"  Nay,  I  should  be  delighted  to  come,"  I  re- 
sponded from  my  heart,  and  we  set  off  together, 
accompanied  for  some  little  distance  by  my 
father,  who  would  gladly,  I  could  see,  have  re- 
opened the  Sanscrit  controversy,  had  not  his 
stock  of  breath  been  too  limited  to  allow  of  his 
talking  and  walking  at  the  same  time. 

"  He  is  a  learned  man,"  Ram  Singh  remarked, 
after  we  had  left  him  behind  ;  "  but,  like  many 


i66 

another,  he  is  intolerant  towards  opinions  which 
differ  from  his  own.  He  will  know  better  some 
day." 

I  made  no  answer  to  this  observation,  and  we 
trudged  along  for  a  time  in  silence,  keeping  well 
down  to  the  water's  edge,  where  the  sands 
afforded  a  good  foothold.  The  sand  dunes  which 
lined  the  coast  formed  a  continuous  ridge  upon 
our  left,  cutting  us  off  entirely  from  all  human 
observation,  while  on  the  right  the  broad  Chan- 
nel stretched  away  with  hardly  a  sail  to  break  its 
silvery  uniformity.  The  Buddhist  priest  and  I 
were  absolutely  alone  with  Nature.  I  could  not 
help  reflecting  that  if  he  were  really  the  danger- 
ous man  that  the  mate  affected  to  consider  him, 
or  that  might  be  inferred  from  the  words  of 
General  Heatherstone,  I  had  placed  myself  com- 
pletely in  his  power.  Yet  such  was  the  majestic 
benignity  of  the  man's  aspect,  and  the  unruffled 
serenity  of  his  deep,  dark  eyes,  that  I  could  afford 
in  his  presence  to  let  fear  and  suspicion  blow  past 
me  as  lightly  as  the  breeze  which  whistled  round 
us.  His  face  might  be  stern,  and  even  terrible, 
but  I  felt  that  he  could  never  be  unjust.  As  I 
glanced  from  time  to  time  at  his  noble  profile 
and  the  sweep  of  his  jet-black  beard,  his  rough- 
spun  tweed  travelling  suit  struck  me  with  an 


,67 

almost  painful  sense  of  incongruity,  and  I 
re-clothed  him  in  my  imagination  with  the  grand, 
sweeping  Oriental  costume  which  is  the  fitting 
and  proper  frame  for  such  a  picture — the  only 
garb  which  does  not  detract  from  the  dignity  , 
and  grace  of  the  wearer.  The  place  to  which  he 
led  me  was  a  small  fisher  cottage  which  had  been 
deserted  some  years  before  by  its  tenant,  but  still 
stood  gaunt  and  bare,  with  the  thatch  partly 
blown  away  and  the  windows  and  door  in  sad 
disrepair.  This  dwelling,  which  the  poorest 
Scotch  beggar  would  have  shrunk  from,  was  the 
one  which  these  singular  men  had  preferred 
to  the  proffered  hospitality  of  the  laird's  house. 
A  small  garden,  now  a  mass  of  tangled  brambles, 
stood  round  it,  and  through  this  my  acquaintance 
picked  his  way  to  the  ruined  door.  He  glanced 
into  the  house  and  then  waved  his  hand  for  me 
to  follow  him. 

"  You  have  now  an  opportunity,"  he  said,  in  a 
subdued,  reverential  voice,  "  of  seeing  a  spectacle 
which  few  Europeans  have  had  the  privilege  of 
beholding.  Inside  that  cottage  you  will  find  two 
Yogis — men  who  are  only  one  remove  from  the 
highest  plane  of  adeptship.  They  are  both 
wrapped  in  an  ecstatic  trance,  otherwise  I  should 
not  venture  to  obtrude  your  presence  upon  them. 


i68 

Their  astral  bodies  have  departed  from  them,  to 
be  present  at  the  feast  of  lamps  in  the  holy  lam- 
astery  of  Rudok  in  Thibet  Tread  lightly,  lest 
by  stimulating  their  corporeal  functions  you 
recall  them  before  their  devotions  are  com- 
pleted." 

Walking  slowly  and  on  tiptoe,  I  picked  my 
way  through  the  weed-grown  garden,  and  peered 
through  the  open  doorway.  There  was  no 
furniture  in  the  dreary  interior,  nor  anything  to 
cover  the  uneven  floor  save  a  litter  of  fresh  straw 
in  a  corner. 

Among  this  straw  two  men  were  crouching, 
the  one  small  and  wizened,  the  other  large- 
boned  and  gaunt,  with  their  legs  crossed  in  Ori- 
ential  fashion  and  their  heads  sunk  upon  their 
breasts.  Neither  of  them  looked  up,  or  took  the 
smallest  notice  of  our  presence.  They  were  so 
still  and  silent  that  they  might  have  been  two 
bronze  statues  but  for  the  slow  and  measured 
rhythm  of  their  breathing.  Their  faces,  however, 
had  a  peculiar,  ashen  grey  color,  very  different 
from  the  healthy  brown  of  my  companion's  ;  and 
I  observed,  on  stooping  my  head,  that  only  the 
whites  of  their  eyes  were  visible,  the  balls  being 
turned  upwards  beneath  the  lids.  In  front  of 
them  upon  a  small  mat  lay  an  earthenware 


I69 

pitcher  of  water  and  half  a  loaf  of  bread,  to- 
gether with  a  sheet  of  paper  inscribed  with  cer- 
tain cabalistic  characters.  Ram  Singh  glanced 
at  these,  and  then,  motioning  to  me  to  withdraw, 
followed  me  out  into  the  garden. 

"  I  am  not  to  disturb  them  until  ten  o'clock," 
he  said.  "  You  have  now  seen  in  operation  one 
of  the  grandest  results  of  our  occult  philosophy, 
the  dissociation  of  spirit  from  body.  Not  only 
are  the  spirits  of  these  holy  men  standing  at  the 
present  moment  by  the  banks  of  the  Ganges,  but 
those  spirits  are  clothed  in  a  material  covering 
so  identical  with  their  real  bodies  that  none  of 
the  faithful  will  ever  doubt  that  Lai  Hoomi  and 
Mowdar  Khan  are  actually  among  them.  This 
is  accomplished  by  our  power  of  resolving  an 
object  into  its  chemical  atoms,  of  conveying 
these  atoms  with  a  speed  which  exceeds  that  of 
lightning  to  any  given  spot,  and  of  there  re-pre- 
cipitating them  and  compelling  them  to  retake 
their  original  form.  Of  old  it  was  necessary  to 
convey  the  whole  body  in  this  way,  but  we  have 
since  found  that  it  was  as  easy  and  more  con- 
venient to  transmit  material  enough  merely  to 
build  up  an  outside  shell  or  semblance  of  a  body. 
This  we  have  termed  the  astral  body." 

"  But  if    you   can    transmit   your  spirits   so 


readily,"  I  observed,  "  why  should  they  be  ac- 
companied by  any  body  at  all  ?" 

"  In  communicating  with  brother  initiates  we 
are  able  to  employ  our  spirits  only  ;  but  when 
we  wish  to  come  in  contact  with  ordinary  man- 
kind it  is  essential  that  we  should  appear  in  some 
form  which  they  can  see  and  comprehend." 

"You  have  interested  me  deeply  in  all  that 
you  have  told  me,"  I  said,  grasping  the  hand 
which  Ram  Singh  had  held  out  to  me  as  a  sign 
that  our  interview  was  at  an  end.  "  I  shall  often 
think  of  our  short  acquaintance." 

"You  will  derive  much  benefit  from  it,"  he 
said,  slowly,  still  holding  my  hand  and  looking 
gravely  and  sadly  into  my  eyes.  "  You  must 
remember  that  what  will  happen  in  the  future 
is  not  necessarily  bad  because  it  does  not  fall  in 
with  your  preconceived  ideas  of  right.  Be  not 
hasty  in  your  judgments.  There  are  certain 
great  rules  which  must  be  carried  out,  at  what- 
ever cost  to  individuals.  Their  operation  may 
appear  to  you  to  be  harsh  and  cruel,  but  that  is 
as  nothing  compared  to  the  dangerous  precedent 
which  would  be  established  by  not  enforcing 
them.  The  ox  and  the  sheep  are  safe  from  us, 
but  the  man  with  the  blood  of  the  highest  upon 
his  hands  should  not  and  shall  not  live." 


I/I 

He  threw  up  his  arms  at  the  last  words  with  9 
fierce,  threatening  gesture,  and  turning  away 
from  me  strode  back  to  the  ruined  hut.  I  stood 
gazing  after  him  until  he  disappeared  through 
the  doorway,  and  then  started  off  for  home, 
revolving  in  my  mind  all  that  I  had  heard,  and 
more  particularly  this  last  outburst  of  the  occult 
philosopher.  Far  on  the  right  I  could  see  the 
tall,  white  tower  of  Cloomber  standing  out  clear- 
cut  and  sharp  against  a  dark  cloud-bank  which 
rose  behind  it.  I  thought  how  any  traveller  who 
chanced  to  pass  that  way  would  envy  in  his 
heart  the  tenant  of  that  magnificent  building,  and 
how  little  they  would  guess  the  strange  terrors, 
the  nameless  dangers,  which  were  gathering 
about  his  head.  The  black  cloud-wrack  was  but 
the  image,  I  reflected,  of  the  darker,  more 
sombre,  storm  which  was  about  to  burst. 

"  Whatever  it  all  means,  and  'however  it  hap- 
pens,"  I  ejaculated,  "  God  grant  that  the  innocent 
be  not  confounded  with  the  guilty." 

My  father,  when  I  reached  home,  was  still  in  a 
ferment  over  his  learned  disputation  with  the 
stranger.  "  I  trust,  Jack,"  he  said,  "  that  I  did 
not  handle  him  too  roughly.  I  should  remember 
that  I  am  in  loco  magistri,  and  be  less  prone  to 
argue  with  my  guests.  Yet,  when  he  took  up 


172 

this  most  untenable  position,  I  could  not  refrain 
from  attacking  him  and  hurling  him  out  of  it, 
which  indeed  I  did,  though  you,  who  are  ignor- 
ant of  the  niceties  of  the  question,  may  have 
failed  to  perceive  it.  You  observed,  however, 
that  my  reference  to  King  Asoka's  edicts  was  so 
conclusive  that  he  rose  and  took  his  leave. " 

"  You  held  your  own  bravely,"  I  answered  ; 
"  but  what  is  your  impression  of  the  man  now 
that  you  have  seen  him  ?" 

"  Why,"  said  my  father,  "  he  is  one  of  those 
holy  men  who,  under  the  various  names  of  Sann- 
asis,  Yogis,  Sevras,  Qualanders,  Hakims,  and 
Cufis,  have  devoted  their  lives  to  the  study  of 
the  mysteries  of  the  Buddhist  faith.  He  is,  I 
take  it,  a  theosophist,  or  worshipper  of  the  God 
of  knowledge,  the  highest  grade  of  which  is 
the  adept.  This  man  and  his  companions  have 
not  attained  this  high  position  or  they  could  not 
have  crossed  the  sea  without  contamination.  It 
is  probable  that  they  are  all  advanced  chelas  who 
hope  in  time  to  attain  to  the  supreme  honor  of 
adeptship." 

"  But,  father,"  interrupted  my  sister,  "  this 
does  not  explain  why  men  of  such  sanctity  and 
attainments  should  choose  to  take  up  their  quar- 
ters on  the  shores  of  a  desolate  Scotch  bay." 


173  , 

"  Ah,  there  you  get  beyond  me,"  my  father 
answered.  "  I  may  suggest,  however,  that  it  is 
nobody's  business  but  their  own,  as  long  as  they 
keep  the  peace  and  are  amenable  to  the  law  of 
the  land." 

"  Have  you  ever  heard,"  I  asked,  "  that  these 
higher  priests  of  whom  you  speak  have  powers 
which  are  unknown  to  us?" 

"  Why,  Eastern  literature  is  full  of  it.  The 
Bible  is  an  Eastern  book,  and  is  it  not  full  of  the 
record  of  such  powers  from  cover  to  cover?  It 
is  unquestionable  that  they  have  in  the  past 
known  many  of  Nature's  secrets  which  are  lost 
to  us.  I  cannot  say,  however,  that  the  modern 
theosophists  really  possess  the  powers  that  they 
claim." 

"  Are  they  a  vindictive  class  of  people  ?  I 
asked.  "  Is  there  any  offense  among  them 
which  can  only  be  expiated  by  death  ?" 

"  Not  that  I  know  of,"  my  father  answered, 
raising  his  white  eyebrows  in  surprise.  "  You 
appear  to  be  in  an  inquisitive  humor  this  after- 
noon— what  is  the  object  of  all  these  questions? 
Have  our  Eastern  neighbors  aroused  your  curi- 
osity or  suspicion  in  any  way  ?" 

I  parried  the  question  as  best  I  might,  for  I 
was  unwilling  to  let  the  old  man  know  what  was 


174 

In  my  mind.  No  good  purpose  could  come  from 
his  enlightenment;  his  age  and  his  health  de- 
manded rest  rather  than  anxiety;  and  indeed  with 
the  best  will  in  the  world  I  should  have  found 
it  difficult  to  explain  to  another  what  was  so  very 
obscure  to  myself.  For  every  reason  I  felt  that 
it  was  best  that  he  should  be  kept  in  the  dark. 

Never  in  all  my  experience  have  I  known  a 
day  pass  so  slowly  as  did  that  eventful  $th  of  Oc- 
tober. In  every  possible  manner  I  endeavored  to 
while  away  the  tedious  hours,  and  yet  it  seemed 
as  if  darkness  would  never  arrive.  I  tried  to 
read,  I  tried  to  write,  I  paced  about  the  lawn,  I 
walked  to  the  end  of  the  lane,  I  put  new  flies 
upon  my  fishing-hooks,  I  began  to  index  my 
father's  library — in  a  dozen  ways  I  endeavored 
to  relieve  the  suspense  which  was  becoming  in- 
tolerable.  My  sister,  I  could  see,  was  suffering 
from  the  same  feverish  restlessness.  Again  and 
again  our  good  father  remonstrated  with  us  in 
his  mild  way  for  our  erratic  behavior  and  the 
continual  interruption  of  his  work  which  arose 
from  it.  At  last,  however,  the  tea  was  brought, 
and  the  tea  was  taken,  the  curtains  were  drawn, 
the  lamps  lit,  and  after  another  interminable 
interval  the  prayers  were  read  and  the  servants 
dismissed  to  their  rooms.  My  father  com- 


175 

pounded  and  swallowed  his  nightly  jorum  of 
toddy,  and  then  shuffled  off  to  his  room,  leaving 
the  two  of  us  in  the  parlor  with  our  nerves  in  a 
tingle  and  our  minds  full  of  the  most  vague  and 
yet  terrible  apprehensions. 


176 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

OF  THE  VISITOR  WHO    RAN  DOWN  THE  ROAD  IN 
THE    NIGHT-TIME. 

It  was  a  quarter  past  ten  o'clock  by  the  parlor 
time-piece  when  my  father  went  off  to  his  room, 
and  left  Esther  and  myself  together.  We  heard 
his  slow  steps  dying  away  up  the  creaking  stair- 
case, until  the  distant  slamming  of  a  door  an- 
nounced that  he  had  reached  his  sanctum.  The 
simple  oil  lamp  upon  the  table  threw  a  weird, 
uncertain  light  over  the  old  room,  flickering  upon 
the  carved  oak  panelling,  and  casting  strange, 
fantastic  shadows  from  the  high-elbowed, 
straight-backed  furniture.  My  sister's  white, 
anxious  face  stood  out  in  the  obscurity  with  a 
startling  exactness  of  profile,  like  one  of  Rem- 
brandt's portraits.  We  sat  opposite  to  each 
other  on  either  side  of  the  table,  with  no  sound 
breaking  the  silence  save  the  measured  ticking 
of  the  clock  and  the  intermittent  chirping  of  a 
cricket  beneath  the  grate.  There  was  something 
awe-inspiring  in  the  absolute  stillness.  'The 
whistling  of  a  belated  peasant  upon  the  high 


177 

road  was  a  relief  to  us,  and  we  strained  our  ears 
to  catch  the  last  of  his  notes  as  he  plodded 
steadily  homewards. 

At  first  we  had  made  some  pretense — she  of 
knitting  and  I  of  reading ;  but  we  soon  abandoned 
the  useless  deception,  and  sat  uneasily  waiting 
starting  and  glancing  at  each  other  with  ques- 
tioning eyes  whenever  the  fagot  crackled  in  the 
fire  or  a  rat  scampered  behind  the  wainscot. 
There  was  a  heavy,  electrical  feeling  in  the  air, 
which  weighed  us  down  with  a  foreboding  of 
disaster.  I  rose  and  flung  the  hall  door  open  to 
admit  the  fresh  breeze  of  the  night.  Ragged 
clouds  swept  across  the  sky,  and  the  moon 
peeped  out  at  times  between  their  hurrying 
fringes,  bathing  the  whole  country-side  in  its 
cold,  white  radiance.  From  where  I  stood  in 
the  doorway  I  could  see  the  edge  of  the  Cloom- 
ber  wood,  though  the  house  itself  was  only  vis- 
ible from  the  rising  ground  some  little  distance 
off.  At  my  sister's  suggestion  we  walked  to- 
gether, she  with  her  shawl  over  her  head,  as  far 
as  the  summit  of  this  elevation,  and  looked  out 
in  the  direction  of  the  Hall.  There  was  no  il- 
lumination of  the  windows  to-night.  From  roof 
to  basement  not  a  light  twinkled  in  any  part  of 
the  great  building.  Its  huge  o»*ss  loomed  up 


dark  and  sullen  amid  the  trees  which  surrounded 
it,  looking  more  like  some  giant  sarcophagus 
than  a  human  habitation.  To  our  overwrought 
nerves  there  was  something  of  terror  in  its  mere 
bulk  and  its  silence.  We  stood  for  some  little 
time  peering  at  it  through  the  darkness,  and 
then  we  made  our  way  back  to  the  parlor  again, 
where  we  sat  waiting — waiting,  we  knew  not  for 
what,  and  yet  with  the  absolute  conviction  that 
some  terrible  experience  was  in  store  for  us. 

It  was  twelve  o'clock  or  close  on  to  it  when 
my  sister  suddenly  sprang  to  her  feet  and  held 
up  her  finger  to  bespeak  attention.  "  Do  you 
hear  nothing  ?"  she  asked. 

I  strained  my  ears,  but  without  success. 

"  Come  to  the  door,"  she  cried,  with  a  tremb- 
ling voice.  "  Now  can  you  hear  anything  ?" 

In  the  deep  silence  of  the  night  I  distinctly 
heard  a  dull,  murmuring,  clattering  sound,  con- 
tinuous apparently,  but  very  faint  and  low. 
"  What  is  it?"  I  asked  in  a  subdued  voice. 

"  It's  the  sound  of  a  man  running  towards  us/' 
she  answered  ;  and  then,  suddenly  dropping  the 
last  semblance  of  self-command,  she  fell  upon 
her  knees  beside  the  table  and  began  praying 
aloud  with  that  frenzied  earnestness  which  in- 
tense, overpowering  fear  can  produce,  breaking 


179 

off  now  and  again  into  half-hysterical  whimper- 
ings. 

I  could  distinguish  the  sound  clearly  enough 
now  to  know  that  her  quick,  feminine  perception 
had  not  deceived  her,  and  that  it  was  indeed 
caused  by  a  running  man.  On  he  came,  and  on 
down  the  high  road,  his  footfalls  ringing  out 
clearer  and  sharper  every  moment.  An  urgent 
messenger  he  must  be,  for  he  neither  paused  nor 
slackened  his  pace.  The  quick,  crisp  rattle  was 
changed  suddenly  to  a  dull,  muffled  murmur. 
He  had  reached  the  point  where  sand  had  been 
recently  laid  down  for  a  hundred  yards  or  so. 
In  a  few  moments,  however,  he  was  back  on 
hard  ground  again  and  his  flying  feet  were 
nearer  and  ever  nearer.  He  must,  I  reflected, 
be  abreast  of  the  head  of  the  lane  now.  Would 
he  hold  on?  or  would  he  turn  down  to  Brank- 
some  ?  The  thought  had  hardly  crossed  my 
mind  when  I  heard  by  the  difference  of  the 
sound  that  the  runner  had  turned  the  corner, 
and  that  his  goal  was  beyond  all  question  the 
laird's  house.  Rushing  down  to  the  gate  of  the 
lawn,  I  reached  it  just  as  our  visitor  dashed  it 
open  and  fell  into  my  arms.  I  could  see  in  the 
moonlight  that  it  was  none  other  than  Mordaunt 
Hcatherstone. 


i8o 

"  My  God  !  "  I  cried,  "  what  has  happened  ? 
What  is  amiss,  Mordaunt?" 

"  My  father !"  he  gasped—"  my  father !"  His 
hat  was  gone,  his  eyes  dilated  with  terror,  and 
his  face  as  bloodless  as  that  of  a  corpse.  I  could 
feel  that  the  hands  which  clasped  my  arms  were 
quivering  and  shaking  with  emotion. 

"  You  are  exhausted,"  I  said,  leading  him  into 
the  parlor.  "  Give  yourself  a  moment's  rest 
before  you  speak  to  us.  Be  calm,  man,  you  are 
with  your  best  friends."  I  laid  him  on  the  old 
horsehair  sofa,  while  Esther,  whose  fears  had  all 
flown  to  the  winds  now  that  something  practical 
was  to  be  done,  dashed  some  brandy  into  a 
tumbler  and  brought  it  to  him.  The  stimulant 
had  a  marvellous  effect  upon  him,  for  the  color 
began  to  come  back  into  his  pale  cheeks  and  the 
light  of  recognition  in  his  eyes.  He  sat  up  and 
took  Esther's  hand  in  both  of  his,  like  a  man  who 
is  waking  out  of  some  bad  dream  and  wishes  to 
assure  himself  that  he  is  really  in  safety. 

"  Your  father?"  I  asked.    -  What  of  him  ?" 

"  He  is  gone." 

"  Gone  1" 

"  Yes,  he  is  gone ;  and  so  is  Corporal  Rufus 
Smith.  We  shall  never  *st  eyes  upon  them 
again." 


"  But  where  have  they  gone  ?"  1  cried. 
"This  is  unworthy  of  you,  Mordaunt.  What 
right  have  we  to  sit  here,  allowing  our  private 
feelings  to  overcome  us,  while  there  is  a  possi- 
bility of  succoring  your  father?  Up,  man  !  Let 
us  follow  him.  Tell  me  only  what  direction  he 
took." 

"  It's  no  use,"  young  Heatherstone  answered, 
burying  his  face  in  his  hands.  "  Don't  reproach 
me,  West,  for  you  don't  know  all  the  circum- 
stances. What  can  we  do  to  reverse  the 
tremendous  and  unknown  laws  which  are  acting 
against  us?  The  blow  has  long  been  hanging 
over  us,  and  now  it  has  fallen.  God  help  us  !" 

"  In  heaven's  name  tell  me  what  has  hap- 
pened ?"  said  I,  excitedly.  "  We  must  not  yield 
to  despair." 

"We  can  do  nothing  until  daybreak,"  he  an- 
swered. "  We  shall  then  endeavor  to  obtain 
some  trace  of  them.  It  is  hopeless  at  present." 

"  And  how  about  Gabriel  and  Mrs.  Heather- 
stone  ?"  I  asked.  "  Can  we  not  bring  them 
down  from  the  Hall  at  once  ?  Your  poor  sister 
must  be  distracted  with  terror." 

"  She  knows  nothing  of  it,"  Mordaunt  an- 
swered. "  She  sleeps  at  the  other  side  of  the 
bouse,  and  has  not  heard  or  seen  anything.  As 


182 

to  my  poor  mother,  she  has  expected  some  such 
event  for  so  long  a  time  that  it  has  not  come 
upon  her  as  a  surprise.  She  is,  of  course,  over- 
whelmed with  grief,  but  would,  I  think,  prefer 
to  be  left  to  herself  for  the  present.  Her  firm- 
ness  and  composure  should  be  a  lesson  to  me  ; 
but  I  am  constitutionally  excitable,  and  this 
catastrophe  coming  after  our  long  period  of 
suspense  deprived  me  of  my  very  reason  for  a 
time." 

"  If  we  can  do  nothing  until  morning,"  I  said, 
"  you  have  time  to  tell  us  all  that  has  occurred." 

"I  shall  do  so,"  he  answered,  rising  and  hold- 
ing his  shaking  hands  to  the  fire.  "  You  know 
already  that  we  have  had  reason  for  some  time — 
for  many  years,  in  fact — to  fear  that  a  terrible 
retribution  was  hanging  over  my  father's  head 
for  a  certain  action  of  his  early  life.  In  this 
action  he  was  associated  with  the  man  known  as 
Corporal  Rufus  Smith  ;  so  that  the  fact  of  the 
latter  finding  his  way  to  my  father  was  a  warn- 
ing to  us  that  the  time  had  come,  and  that  this 
5th  of  October — the  anniversary  of  the  mis- 
deed— would  be  the  day  of  its  atonement.  I 
told  you  of  our  fears  in  my  letter  ;  and  if  I  am 
not  mistaken,  my  father  also  had  some  conver- 
sation with  you,  West,  upon  the  subject.  When 


183 

I  saw  yesterday  morning  that  he  had  hunted  out 
the  old  uniform  which  he  has  always  retained 
since  he  wore  it  in  the  Afghan  war,  I  was  sure 
that  the  end  was  at  hand,  and  that  our  forebod- 
ings would  be  realized. 

"  He  appeared  to  be  more  composed  in  the 
afternoon  than  I  have  seen  him  for  years,  and 
spoke  freely  of  his  life  in  India  and  of  the  in- 
cidents  of  his  youth.  About  nine  o'clock  he 
requested  us  to  go  to  our  own  rooms,  and  locked 
us  in  there — a  precaution  which  he  frequently 
took  when  the  dark  fit  was  upon  him.  It  was 
always  his  endeavor,  poor  soul,  to  keep  us  clear 
of  the  curse  which  had  fallen  upon  his  own  un- 
fortunate head.  Before  parting  from  us  he  ten- 
derly embraced  my  mother  and  Gabriel,  and  he 
afterwards  followed  me  to  my  room,  where  he 
clasped  my  hand  affectionately  and  gave  into 
my  charge  a  small  packet  addressed  to  your- 
self." 

"  To  me  ?"  I  interrupted. 

"  To  you.  I  shall  fulfill  my  commission  when- 
ever I  have  told  you  my  story.  I  conjured  him 
to  allow  me  to  sit  up  with  him  and  to  share  any 
danger  which  might  arise  ,  hut  he  implored  me 
with  irresistible  earnestness  not  to  add  to  his 
troubles  by  thwarting  his  arrangements.  Seeing 


1 84 

that  I  was  really  distressing  him  by  my  pertin- 
acity, I  at  last  allowed  him  to  close  the  door  and 
to  turn  the  key  upon  the  outside.  I  shall  always 
reproach  myself  for  my  want  of  firmness.  But 
what  can  you  do  when  your  own  father  refuses 
your  assistance  or  co-operation?  You  cannot 
force  yourself  upon  him." 

44 1  am  sure  that  you  did  all  you  could  do/' 
my  sister  said. 

"  I  meant  to,  dear  Esther,  but  God  help  me,  it 
was  hard  to  tell  what  was  right.  He  left  me, 
and  I  heard  his  footsteps  die  away  down  the 
long  corridor.  It  was  then  about  ten  o'clock, 
or  a  little  after.  For  a  time  I  paced  up  and 
down  the  room,  and  then  carrying  the  lamp  to 
the  head  of  my  bed,  I  lay  upon  it  without  un- 
dressing, reading  'St.  Thomas  a  Kempis,' and 
praying  from  my  heart  that  the  night  might 
pass  safely  over  us.  I  had  at  last  fallen  into  a 
troubled  sleep  when  I  was  suddenly  aroused  by 
a  loud,  sonorous  sound  ringing  in  my  ears.  I 
I  sat  up  bewildered,  but  all  was  silent  again. 
The  lamp  was  burning  low,  and  my  watch 
showed  me  that  it  was  going  on  to  midnight.  1 
blundered  to  my  feet,  and  was  striking  a  match 
with  the  intention  of  lighting  the  candles,  when 
the  sharp,  vehement  cry  broke  out  again  so  loud 


I8S 

and  so  clear  that  It  might  have  been  in  the  very 
room  with  me.  My  chamber  is  in  the  front  of 
the  house,  while  those  of  my  mother  and  sister 
are  at  the  back,  so  that  I  am  the  only  one  who 
commands  a  view  of  the  avenue.  Rushing  to 
the  window  I  drew  the  blind  aside  and  looked 
out.  You  know  that  the  gravel  drive  opens  up 
so  as  to  form  a  broad  stretch  immediately  in  front 
of  the  house.  Just  in  the  centre  of  this  clear 
space  there  stood  three  men  looking  up  at  the 
house.  The  moon  shone  full  upon  them,  glis- 
tening on  their  upturned  eyeballs,  and  by  its 
light  I  could  see  that  they  were  swarthy-faced 
and  black-haired,  of  a  type  that  I  was  familiar 
with  among  the  Sikhs  and  Afreedees.  Two  of 
them  were  thin,  with  eager,  aesthetic  counte- 
nances, while  the  third  was  kinglike  and  majestic, 
with  a  noble  figure  and  flowing  beard." 

"  Ram  Singh  1"  I  ejaculated. 

"  What,  you  know  them,"  exclaimed  Mordaunt, 
in  great  surprise.  "  You  have  met  them  ?" 

41 1  know  of  them.  They  are  Buddhist  priests," 
I  answered  ;  "  but  go  on." 

"  They  stood  in  a  line,"  he  continued,  "  sweep. 
ing  their  arms  upwards  and  downwards,  while 
their  lips  moved  as  if  repeating  some  prayer  or 
incantation.  Suddenly  they  ceased  to  gesticu* 


186 

late,  and  broke  out  for  the  third  time  into  thd 
wild,  weird,  piercing  cry  which  had  roused  me 
from  my  slumber.  Never  shall  I  forget  that 
shrili,  dreadful  summons,  swelling  and  reverber- 
ating through  the  silent  night  with  an  intensity 
of  sound  which  is  still  ringing  in  my  ears.  As 
it  died  slowly  away  there  was  a  rasping  and 
creaking  as  of  keys  and  bolts,  followed  by  the 
clang  of  an  opening  door  and  the  clatter  of 
hurrying  feet.  From  my  window  I  saw  my 
father  and  Corporal  Rufus  Smith  rush  frantically 
out  of  the  house,  hatless  and  unkempt,  like  men 
who  are  obeying  a  sudden  and  overpowering 
impulse.  The  three  strangers  laid  no  hands 
upon  them,  but  the  whole  five  swept  swiftly 
away  down  the  avenue  and  vanished  among  the 
trees.  I  am  positive  that  no  force  was  used,  or 
constraint  of  any  visible  kind,  and  yet  I  am  as 
sure  that  my  poor  father  and  his  companion  were 
helpless  prisoners  as  if  I  had  seen  them  dragged 
away  in  manacles.  All  this  took  little  time  in  the 
acting.  From  the  first  summons  which  disturbed 
my  sleep  to  the  last  shadowy  glimpse  which  I 
had  of  them  between  the  tree  trunks  could 
hardly  have  occupied  more  than  five  minutes  of 
actual  time.  So  sudden  was  it,  and  so  strange, 
that  when  the  drama  was  over  and  they  were 


gone,  I  could  have  believed  that  it  was  all  some 
terrible  nightmare,  some  delusion,  had  I  not  felt 
that  the  impression  was  too  real,  too  vivid  to  be 
imputed  to  fancy.  I  threw  my  whole  weight 
against  my  bedroom  door  in  the  hope  of  forcing 
the  lock.  It  stood  firm  for  a  while,  but  I  flung 
myself  upon  it  again  and  again,  until  something 
snapped  and  I  found  myself  in  the  passage.  My 
first  thought  was  for  my  mother.  I  rushed  to 
her  room  and  turned  the  key  in  her  door.  The 
moment  that  I  did  so  she  stepped  out  into  the 
corridor  in  her  dressing-gown,  and  held  UD  a 
Warning  finger. 

"  *  No  noise,'  she  said.  *  Gabriel  is  asleep. 
They  have  been  called  away  ?' 

"  '  They  have/  I  answered. 

" '  God's  will  be  done  !'  she  cried.  '  Your  poor 
father  will  be  happier  in  the  next  world  than  he 
has  ever  been  in  this.  Thank  heaven  that  Gabriel 
is  asleep.  I  gave  her  chloral  in  her  cocoa/ 

"'What  am  I  to  do?'  I  said,  distractedly. 
'  Where  have  they  gone  ?  How  can  I  help  him  ? 
We  cannot  let  him  go  from  us  like  this,  or  leave 
these  men  to  do  what  they  will  with  him.  Shall 
I  ride  into  Wigtown  and  rouse  the  police  ?' 

"  '  Anything  rather  than  that,'  my  mother  said, 
earnestly.  '  lie  has  begged  me  again  and  agaii> 


i88 


to  avoid  it.  My  son,  we  shall  never  set  eyes  on 
your  father  again.  You  may  marvel  at  my  dry 
eyes  ;  but  if  you  knew  as  I  know  the  peace  which 
death  would  bring  him,  you  could  not  find  it  in 
your  heart  to  mourn  for  him.  All  pursuit  is,  I 
feel,  vain ;  and  yet  some  pursuit  there  must  be. 
Let  it  be  as  private  as  possible.  We  cannot 
serve  him  better  than  by  consulting  his  wishes.' 

" '  But  every  minute  is  precious,'  I  cried. 
1  Even  now  he  may  be  calling  upon  us  to  rescue 
him  from  the  clutches  of  these  dark-skinned 
fiends.* 

The  thought  so  maddened  me  that  I  rushed 
out  of  the  house  and  down  to  the  high  road,  but 
once  there  I  had  no  indication  in  which  direc- 
tion to  turn.  The  whole  wide  moor  lay  before 
me,  without  a  sign  of  movement  upon  its  broad 
expanse.  I  listened,  but  not  a  sound  broke  the 
perfect  stillness  of  the  night.  It  was  then,  my 
dear  friends,  as  I  stood,  not  knowing  in  which 
direction  to  turn,  that  the  horror  and  responsu 
bility  broke  full  upon  me.  I  felt  that  I  was  com- 
bating against  forces  of  which  I  knew  nothing. 
All  was  strange  and  dark  and  terrible.  The 
thought  of  you,  and  of  the  help  which  I  might 
look  for  from  your  advice  and  assistance,  was  a 
beacon  of  hope  to  me.  At  Branksome,  at  least, 


I89 

I  should  receive  sympathy,  and,  above  all,  direc- 
tions as  to  what  I  should  do ;  for  my  mind  is  in 
Such  a  whirl  that  I  cannot  trust  my  own  judg- 
ment. My  mother  was  content  to  be  alone,  my 
sister  asleep,  and  no  prospect  of  being  able  to 
do  anything  until  daybreak.  Under  those  cir- 
cumstances what  more  natural  than  that  I  should 
fly  to  you  as  fast  as  my  feet  would  carry  me  ? 
You  have  a  clear  head,  Jack  ;  speak  out,  man, 
and  tell  me  what  I  should  do.  Esther,  what 
should  I  do?"  He  turned  from  one  to  the  other 
of  us  with  outstretched  hands  and  eager,  ques- 
tioning eyes. 

"  You  can  do  nothing  while  the  darkness 
lasts,"  I  answered.  "  We  must  report  the  matter 
to  the  Wigtown  police ;  but  we  need  not  send 
our  message  to  them  until  we  are  actually  start- 
ing  upon  the  search,  so  as  to  comply  with  the 
law  and  yet  have  a  private  investigation,  as  your 
mother  wishes.  John  Fullarton,  over  the  hill, 
has  a  lurcher  dog  which  is  as  good  as  a  blood- 
hound. If  we  set  him  on  the  general's  trail  he 
will  run  him  down  if  he  has  to  follow  him  to 
John  o'  Groats.'* 

"  It  is  terrible  to  wait  calmly  here  while  he 
may  need  our  assistance." 

*«  I  fear  our  assistance  could  under  any  circum- 


190 

stances  do  him  little  good.  There  are  forces  at 
work  here  which  are  beyond  human  interven- 
tion. Besides,  there  is  no  alternative.  We 
have,  apparently,  no  possible  clue  as  to  the 
direction  which  they  have  taken,  and  for  us  to 
wander  aimlessly  over  the  moor  in  the  darkness 
would  be  to  waste  the  strength  which  may  be 
more  profitably  used  in  the  morning.  It  will  be 
daylight  by  five  o'clock.  In  an  uhour  or  so  we 
can  walk  over  the  hill  together  and  get  Fullar- 
ton's  dog." 

"  Another  hour !"  Mordaunt  groaned,  "  every 
minute  seems  an  age." 

"  Lie  down  on  the  sofa  again  and  rest  your- 
self," said  I.  "  You  cannot  serve  your  father 
better  than  by  laying  .up  all  the  strength  you 
can,  for  we  may  have  a  weary  trudge  before  us. 
But  you  mentioned  a  packet  which  the  general 
had  intended  for  me." 

"  It  is  here,"  he  answered,  drawing  a  small, 
flat  parcel  from  his  pocket  and  handing  it  over 
to  me  ;  "  you  will  find,  no  doubt,  that  it  will 
explain  all  which  has  been  so  mysterious." 

The  packet  was  sealed  at  either  end  with 
black  wax,  bearing  the  impress  of  the  flying 
griffin,  which  I  knew  to  be  the  general's  crest. 
It  was  further  secured  by  a  band  of  broad  tape 


which  I  cut  with  my  pocket  knife.  Across  the 
outside  was  written,  in  bold  handwriting:  "J 
Fothergill  West,  Esq.,'*  and  underneath,  "  To  be 
handed  to  that  gentleman  in  the  event  of  the 
disappearance  or  decease  of  Major-General  J. 
B.  Heatherstone,  V.  C,  C.  B.,  late  of  the  Indian 
Army."  So  at  last  I  was  to  know  the  dark 
secret  which  had  cast  a  shadow  over  our  lives. 
Here  in  my  hands  I  held  the  solution  of  it. 
With  eager  fingers  I  broke  the  seals  and  undid 
the  wrapper.  A  note  and  a  small  bundle  of  dis- 
colored paper  lay  within.  I  drew  the  lamp  over 
to  me  and  opened  the  former.  It  was  dated 
from  the  preceding  afternoon,  and  ran  in  this 
way: 

MY  DEAR  WEST,— I  should  have  satisfied  your 
very  natural  curiosity  on  the  subject  which  we 
have  had  occasion  to  talk  of  more  than  once, 
but  I  refrained  for  your  own  sake.  I  knew  by  sad 
experience  how  unsettling  and  unnerving  it  is 
to  be  forever  waiting  for  a  catastrophe  which 
you  are  convinced  must  befall,  and  which  you 
can  neither  avert  nor  accelerate.  Though  it 
affects  me  specially,  as  being  the  person  most 
concerned,  I  am  still  conscious  that  the  natural 
sympathy  which  I  hav<?  observed  in  you,  and 


I92 

your  regard  for  Gabriel's  father,  would  both 
combine  to  render  you  unhappy  if  you  knew  the 
hopelessness  and  yet  the  vagueness  of  the  fate 
which  threatens  me.  I  feared  to  disturb  your 
mind,  and  I  was,  therefore,  silent,  though  at  some 
cost  to  myself,  for  my  isolation  has  been  not 
the  least  of  the  troubles  which  have  weighed 
me  down.  Many  signs,  however,  and  chief 
among  them  the  presence  of  the  Buddhists  upon 
the  coast  as  'described  by  you  this  morning, 
have  convinced  me  that  the  weary  waiting  is  at 
last  over  and  that  the  hour  of  retribution  is  at 
hand.  Why  I  should  have  been  allowed  to  live 
nearly  forty  years  after  my  offense,  is  more  than 
I  can  understand,  but  it  is  possible  that  those 
who  had  command  over  my  fate  know  that 
such  a  life  is  the  greatest  of  all  penalties  to 
me.  Never  for  an  hour,  night  or  day,  have  they 
suffered  me  to  iorget  that  they  have  marked  me 
down  as  their  victim.  Their  accursed  astral  bell 
has  been  ringing  my  knell  for  twoscore  years, 
reminding  me  ever  that  there  is  no  spot  upon 
earth  where  I  can  hope  to  be  in  safety.  Oh,  the 
peace,  the  blessed  peace  of  dissolution  !  Come 
what  may  on  the  other  side  of  the  tomb,  I  shall 
at  least  be  quit  of  that  thrice  terrible  sound. 
There  is  no  need  for  me  to  enter  into  tho 


193 

wretched  fcmstness  again,  or  to  detail  at  any 
length  the  events  of  the  fifth  of  October,  1841, 
and  the  various  circumstances  which  led  up  to 
the  death  of  Ghoolab  Shah,  the  arch  adept.  I 
have  torn  a  sheaf  of  leaves  from  my  old  journal, 
in  which  you  will  find  a  bald  account  of  the  mat- 
ter, and  an  independent  narrative  was  furnished 
by  Sir  Edward  Elliott,  of  the  Artillery,  to  the 
Star  of  India  some  years  ago — in  which,  how- 
ever, the  names  were  suppressed.  I  have  reason 
to  believe  that  many  people,  even  among  those 
who  knew  India  well,  thought  that  Sir  Edward 
was  romancing,  and  that  he  had  evolved  his  inci- 
dents from  his  imagination.  The  few  faded 
leaves  which  I  send  you  will  show  you  that  this  is 
not  the  case,  and  that  our  men  of  science  must 
recognize  powers  and  laws  which  can  and  have 
been  used  by  man,  but  which  are  unknown  to 
European  civilization. 

I  do  not  wish  to  whine  or  to  whimper;  but  I 
cannot  help  feeling  that  I  have  had  hard  measure 
dealt  me  in  this  world.  I  would  not,  God  knows* 
take  the  life  of  any  man,  far  less  an  aged  one,  in 
cold  blood.  My  temper  and  nature,  however* 
were  always  fiery  and  headstrong,  and  in  action 
when  my  blood  is  up  I  have  no  knowledge  of 
what  I  am  about.  Neither  the  corporal  or  I 


194 

would  have  laid  a  finger  upon  Ghoolab  Shah  had 
we  not  seen  that  the  tribesmen  were  rallying  be- 
hind  him.  Well,  well ;  it  is  an  old  story  now, 
and  there  is  no  profit  in  discussing  it.  May  no 
other  poor  fellow  ever  have  the  same  evil  for. 
tune! 

I  have  written  a  short  supplement  to  the  state- 
ments contained  in  my  journal  for  your  informa- 
tion, and  that  of  any  one  else  who  may  chance  to 
be  interested  in  the  matter.  And  now,  adieu  ! 
Be  a  good  husband  to  Gabriel ;  and  if  your  sis- 
ter be  brave  enough  to  marry  into  such  a  devil- 
ridden  family  as  ours,  by  all  means  let  her  do  so. 
I  have  left  enough  to  keep  my  poor  wife  in  com. 
fort.  When  she  rejoins  me  I  should  wish  it  to 
be  equally  divided  between  the  children.  If  you 
hear  that  I  am  gone,  do  not  pity,  but  congratu- 
late 

Your  unfortunate  friend, 

JOHN  BERTHIER  HEATHERSTONE. 

t  threw  aside  the  letter  and  picked  up  the  roll 
of  bine  foolscap  which  contained  the  solution  of 
the  mystery.  It  was  all  ragged  and  frayed  at 
the  inner  edge,  with  traces  of  gum  and  thread 
still  adhering  to  it,  to  show  that  it  had  been  torn 
out  of  a  strongly  bound  volume.  The  ink  with 


195 

which  it  had  been  written  had  faded  somewhat; 
but  across  the  head  of  the  first  page  was  in- 
scribed in  bold,  clear  characters,  evidently  of 
later  date  than  the  rest,  "  Journal  of  Lieutenant 
J.  B.  Heatherstone,  in  the  Thull  valley  during 
the  autumn  of  1841,"  and  then  underneath, 
"This  extract  contains  some  account  of  the 
events  of  the  first  week  of  October  of  that  year, 
including  the  skirmish  of  the  Terada  ravine  and 
the  death  of  the  man  Ghoolab  Shah."  I  have 
the  narrative  lying  before  me  now,  and  I  copy 
it  verbatim.  If  it  contains  some  matter  which 
has  no  direct  bearing  upon  the  question  at  issue, 
I  can  only  say  that  I  thought  it  better  to  publish 
what  is  irrelevant  than  by  cutting  and  clipping 
to  lay  the  whole  statement  open  to  the  charge 
of  having  been  tampered  with. 


196 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    DAY-BOOK  OF  JOHN  BERTHIER  HEATHER 

STONE. 

THULL  VALLEY,  Oct.  i,  1841.— The  Fifth  Ben. 
gal  and  the  Thirty-third  Queen's  passed  through 
this  morning  on  their  way  to  the  front.  Had 
tiffin  with  the  Bengalese.  Latest  news  from 
home  that  two  attempts  had  been  made  on  the 
Queen's  life  by  semi-maniacs  named  Francis  and 
Bean. 

It  promises  to  be  a  hard  winter.  The  snow- 
line  has  descended  a  thousand  feet  upon  the 
peaks,  but  the  passes  will  be  open  for  weeks  to 
come,  and  even  if  they  were  blocked,  we  have 
established  so  many  dep6ts  in  the  country  that 
Pollock  and  Nott  will  have  no  difficulty  in  hold- 
ing their  own.  They  shall  not  meet  with  the 
fate  of  Elphinstone's  army.  One  such  tragedy 
is  enough  for  a  century. 

Elliott,  of  the  Artillery,  and  I,  are  answerable 
for  the  safety  of  the  communications  for  a  dis- 
tance of  twenty  miles  or  more,  from  the  mouth 


197 

of  the  valley  to  this  side  of  the  wooden  bridge 
over  the  Lotar.  Goodenough,  of  the  rifles,  Is 
responsible  on  the  other  side  ;  and  Lieutenant. 
Colonel  Sidney  Herbert,  of  the  Engineers,  has  a 
general  supervision  over  both  sections.  Our 
force  is  not  strong  enough  for  the  work  which 
has  to  be  done.  I  have  a  company  and  a  half  of 
our  own  regiment,  and  a  squadron  of  Sowars, 
who  are  of  no  use  at  all  among  the  rocks. 
Elliott  has  three  guns,  but  several  of  his  men  are 
down  with  cholera,  and  I  doubt  if  he  has  enough 
to  serve  more  than  two.  [Note :  capiscum  for 
cholera — tried  it.]  On  the  other  hand,  each 
convoy  is  usually  provided  with  some  guard  of 
its  own,  though  it  is  often  absurdly  inefficient. 
These  valleys  and  ravines  which  branch  out  of 
the  main  pass  are  alive  with  Afreedees  and 
Pathans,  who  are  keen  robbers  as  well  as  relig- 
ious fanatics.  I  wonder  they  don't  swoop  down 
on  some  of  our  caravans.  They  could  plunder 
them  and  get  back  to  their  mountain  fastnesses 
before  we  could  interfere  or  overtake  them. 
Nothing  but  fear  will  restrain  them.  If  I  had 
my  way  I  would  hang  one  at  the  mouth  of  every 
ravine  as  a  warning  to  the  gang.  They  are 
personifications  of  the  devil  to  look  at,  hawk- 
nosed,  full-lipped,  with  a  mane  of  tangled  hair, 


198 

and  most  Satanic  sneer.  No  news  to-day  from 
the  front. 

October  2. — I  must  really  ask  Herbert  for 
another  company  at  the  very  least.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  the  communications  would  be  cut 
off  if  any  serious  attack  were  made  upon  us. 
Now,  this  morning  two  urgent  messages  were 
sent  me  from  two  different  points  more  than  six- 
teen  miles  apart,  to  say  that  there  were  signs  of 
a  descent  of  the  tribes.  Elliott,  with  one  gun 
and  the  Sowars,  went  to  the  further  ravine, 
while  I,  with  the  infantry,  hurried  to  the  other ; 
but  we  found  it  was  a  false  alarm.  I  saw  no 
signs  of  the  hillmen,  and  though  we  were 
greeted  by  a  sputter  of  jezail  bullets  we  were 
unable  to  capture  any  of  the  rascals.  Woe  betide 
them  if  they  fall  into  my  hands!  I  would  give 
them  as  short  a  shrift  as  ever  a  Highland  cateran 
got  from  a  Glasgow  judge.  These  continued 
alarms  may  mean  nothing  or  they  may  be  an 
indication  that  the  hillmen  are  assembling  and 
have  some  plan  in  view, 

We  have  had  no  news  from  the  front  for  some 
time,  but  to-day  a  convoy  of  wounded  came 
through  with  the  intelligence  that  Nott  had 
taken  Ghuznee.  I  hope  he  warmed  up  any  of 
the  black  rascals  that  fell  into  his  hands.  No 


199 

word  of  Pollock.  An  elephant  battery  came  up 
from  the  Punjaub,  looking  in  a  very  good 
condition.  There  were  several  convalescents 
with  it  going  up  to  rejoin  their  regiments.  Knew 
none  of  them  except  Mostyn  of  the  Hussars  and 
young  Blakesley,  who  was  my  fag  at  Charter- 
house, and  whom  I  have  never  seen  since. 
Punch  and  cigars  al  fresco  up  to  eleven  o'clock. 
Letters  to-day  from  Wills  and  Co.,  about  their 
little  bill  forwarded  on  from  Delhi.  Thought  a 
campaign  freed  a  man  from  these  annoyances. 
Wills  says  in  his  note  that  since  his  written 
applications  have  been  in  vain,  he  must  call  upon 
me  in  person.  If  he  calls  upon  me  now  he  will 
assuredly  be  the  boldest  and  most  persevering  of 
tailors.  A  line  from  Calcutta  Daisy  and  another 
from  Hobhouse  to  say  that  Matilda  comes  in  for 
all  the  money  under  the  will.  I  am  glad  of  it. 

October  3. — Glorious  news  from  the  front  to- 
day. Barclay,  of  the  Madras  Cavalry,  galloped 
through  with  dispatches.  Pollock  entered 
Cabul  triumphantly  on  the  i6th  of  last  month, 
and,  better  still,  Lady  Sale  has  been  rescued  by 
Shakespeare,  and  brought  safe  into  the  British 
camp,  together  with  the  other  hostages.  "  Te 
Deum  Laudamus!"  This  should  end  the  whole 
wretched  business — this  and  the  sack  of  the  city. 


200 

I  hope  Pollock  won't  be  squeamish,  or  truckle  to 
the  hysterical  party  at  home.  The  town  should 
be  laid  in  ashes  and  the  fields  sown  with  salt. 
Above  all,  the  Residency  and  the  Palace  must 
come  down.  So  shall  Burnes,  McNaghten,  and 
many  another  gallant  fellow  know  that  his 
countrymen  could  avenge  if  they  could  not  save 
him  ! 

It  is  hard  when  others  are  gaining  glory  and 
experience  to  be  stuck  in  this  miserable  valley. 
I  have  been  out  of  it  completely,  bar  a  few  petty 
skirmishes.  However,  we  may  see  some  service 
yet.  A  jemidar  of  ours  brought  in  a  hillman 
to-day,  who  says  that  the  tribes  are  massing  in 
the  Terada  ravine,  ten  miles  to  the  north  of  us, 
and  intend  attacking  the  next  convoy.  We 
can't  rely  on  information  of  this  sort,  but  there 
may  prove  to  be  some  truth  in  it.  Proposed  to 
shoot  our  informant,  so  as  to  prevent  his  playing 
the  double  traitor  and  reporting  our  proceedings. 
Elliott  demurred.  If  you  are  making  war  you 
should  throw  no  chance  away.  I  hate  half-and- 
half  measures.  The  Children  of  Israel  seem  to 
have  been  the  only  people  who  ever  carried  war 
to  its  logical  conclusion — except  Cromwell  in 
Ireland — made  a  compromise  at  last  by  which 
the  man  is  to  be  detained  as  a  prisoner  and 


2OI 


executed  if  his  information  prove  to  be  false,  I 
only  hope  we  get  a  fair  chance  of  showing  what 
we  can  do.  No  doubt  these  fellows  at  the  front 
will  have  C.  B.'s  and  knighthoods  showering 
upon  them  thick  and  fast,  while  we  poor  devils,' 
who  have  had  most  of  the  responsibility  and 
anxiety,  will  be  passed  over  completely.  Elliott 
has  a  whitlow.  The  last  convoy  left  us  a  large 
packet  of  sauces,  but  as  they  forgot  to  leave 
anything  to  eat  with  them,  we  have  handed  them 
over  to  the  Sowars,  who  drink  them  out  of  their 
pannikins  as  if  they  were  liqueurs.  We  hear 
that  another  large  convoy  may  be  expected  from 
the  plains  in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two.  Took 
nine  to  four  on  Cleopatra  for  the  Calcutta 
Cup. 

October  4. — The  hillmen  really  mean  business 
this  time,  I  think.  We  have  had  two  of  our 
spies  come  in  this  morning  with  the  same 
account  about  the  gathering  in  the  Terada 
quarter.  That  old  rascal  Zemaun  is  at  the  head 
of  it,  and  I  have  recommended  the  Government 
to  present  him  with  a  telescope  in  return  for  his 
neutrality.'  There  will  be  no  Zemaun  to  present 
it  to  if  I  can  but  lay  hands  upon  him.  We 
expect  the  convoy  to-morrow  morning,  and  need 
anticipate  no  attack  until  it  comes  up,  for  these 


fellows  fight  for  plunder,  not  for  glory,  though, 
to  do  them  justice,  they  have  plenty  of  pluck 
when  they  get  started.  I  have  devised  an 
excellent  plan,  and  it  has  Elliott's  hearty  support. 
By  Jove !  if  we  can  only  manage  it,  it  will  be  as 
pretty  a  ruse  as  ever  I  heard  of !  Our  intention 
is  to  give  out  that  we  are  going  down  the  valley 
to  meet  the  convoy  and  to  block  the  mouth  of  a 
pass  from  which  we  profess  to  expect  an  attack. 
Very  good.  We  shall  make  a  night  march 
to-night  and  reach  their  camp.  Once  there  I 
shall  conceal  my  two  hundred  men  in  the 
wagons  and  travel  up  with  the  convoy  again. 
Our  friends,  the  enemy,  having  heard  that  we 
intended  to  go  south,  and  seeing  the  caravan 
going  north  without  us,  will  naturally  swoop 
down  upon  it  under  the  impression  that  we  are 
twenty  miles  away.  We  shall  teach  them  such 
a  lesson  that  they  would  as  soon  think  of  stop- 
ping a  thunderbolt  as  of  interfering  again  with 
one  of  Her  Britannic  Majesty's  provision  trains. 
I  am  all  on  thorns  to  be  off. 

Elliott  has  rigged  up  two  of  his  guns  so  ingen- 
iously that  they  look  more  like  costermongers* 
barrows  than  anything  else.  To  see  artillery 
ready  for  action  in  the  convoy  might  arouse 
suspicion.  The  artillerymen  will  be  in  the 


203 

wagons  next  the  guns,  all  ready  to  unlimber  and 
open  fire.  Infantry  in  front  and  rear.  Have 
told  our  confidential  and  discreet  Sepoy  servants 
the  plan  which  we  do  not  intend  to  adopt.  N.B. 
—If  you  wish  a  thing  to  be  noised  over  a  whole 
province  always  whisper  it  under  a  vow  of 
secrecy  to  your  confidential  native  servant. 

8 : 45  P.  M. — Just  starting  for  the  convoy.  May 
luck  go  with  us  ! 

October  5. — Seven  o'clock  in  the  evening.  lo 
triumph f  !  Crown  us  with  laurel — Elliott  and 
myself !  Who  can  compare  with  us  as  vermin- 
killers  ?  I  have  only  just  got  back,  tired  and 
weary,  stained  with  blood  and  dust,  but  I  have 
sat  down  before  either  washing  or  changing  to 
have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  our  deeds  set 
forth  in  black  and  white — if  only  in  my  private 
log  for  no  eye  but  my  own.  I  shall  describe  it 
all  fully  as  a  preparation  for  our  official  account, 
which  must  be  drawn  up  when  Elliott  gets  back. 
Billy  Dawson  used  to  say  that  there  were  three 
degrees  of  comparison — a  prevarication,  a  lie, 
and  an  official  account.  We  at  least  cannot 
exaggerate  our  success,  for  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  add  anything  to  it. 

We  set  out,  then,  as  per  programme,  and  came 
upon  the  camp  near  the  head  of  the  valley.  They 


204 

had  two  weak  com  panics  of  the  54th  with  them 
who  might  no  doubt  have  held  their  own  with 
warning,  but  an  unexpected  rush  of  wild 
hillmen  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to  stand  against. 
With  our  reinforcement,  however,  and  on  our 
guard,  we  might  defy  the  rascals.  Chamberlain 
was  in  command — a  fine  young  fellow.  We  soon 
made  him  understand  the  situation,  and  were  all 
ready  for  a  start  by  daybreak  though  his  wagons 
were  so  full  that  we  were  compelled  to  leave 
several  tons  of  fodder  behind  in  order  to  make 
room  for  my  Sepoys  and  for  the  artillery.  About 
five  o'clock  we  inspanned,  to  use  an  Africanism, 
and  by  six  we  were  well  on  our  way,  with  our 
escort  as  straggling  and  unconcerned  as  possible 
— as  helpless-looking  a  caravan  as  ever  invited 
attack. 

I  could  soon  see  that  it  was  to  be  no  false  alarm 
this  time,  and  that  the  tribes  really  meant  busi- 
ness. From  my  post  of  observation  under  the 
canvas  screen  of  one  of  the  wagons  I  could  make 
out  turbaned  heads  popping  up  to  have  a  look 
at  us  from  among  the  rocks,  and  an  occasional 
scout  hurrying  northward  with  the  news  of  our 
approach.  It  was  not,  however,  until  we  came 
abreast  of  the  Terada  Pass,  a  gloomy  defile 
bounded  by  gigantic  clififs,  that  the  Afreedees 


205 

tjegan  to  show  in  force,  though  they  had  am- 
bushed  themselves  so  cleverly  that  had  we  not 
been  keenly  on  the  look-out  for  them,  we  might 
have  walked  right  into  the  trap.  As  it  was,  the 
convoy  halted,  upon  which  the  hillmen,  seeing 
that  they  were  observed,  opened  a  heavy  but  ill- 
directed  fire  upon  us.  I  had  asked  Chamberlain 
to  throw  out  his  men  in  skirmishing  order,  and 
to  give  them  directions  to  retreat  slowly  upon 
the  wagons  so  as  to  draw  the  Afreedees  on.  The 
ruse  succeeded  to  perfection.  As  the  redcoats 
steadily  retired,  keeping  behind  cover  as  much 
as  possible,  the  enemy  followed  them  up  with 
yells  of  exultation,  springing  from  rock  to  rock, 
waving  their  jezails  in  the  air,  and  howling  like 
a  pack  of  demons.  With  their  black,  contorted, 
mocking  faces,  their  fierce  gestures,  and  their 
fluttering  garments,  they  would  have  made  a 
study  for  any  painter  who  wished  to  portray 
Milton's  conception  of  the  army  of  the  damned. 
From  every  side  they  pressed  m  jntil  seeing,  as 
ihey  thought,  nothing  between  them  and  victory, 
they  left  the  shelter  of  the  rocks  and  came  rush- 
ing down,  a  furious,  howling  throng,  with  the 
green  banner  of  the  Prophet  in  their  van.  Now 
was  our  chance,  and  gloriously  we  utilized  it. 
From  every  cranny  and  s'it  of  the  wagons  came 


206 

a  blaze  of  fire,  every  shot  of  which  told  among 
the  close-packed  mob.  Two  or  three  score 
rolled  over  like  rabbits  and  the  rest  reeled  for  a 
moment,  and  then,  with  their  chiefs  at  their 
heads,  came  on  again  in  a  magnificent  rush.  It 
was  useless,  however,  for  undisciplined  men  to 
attempt  to  face  such  a  well-directed  fire.  The 
leaders  were  bowled  over,  and  the  others,  after 
hestitating  for  a  few  moments,  turned  and  made 
for  the  rocks.  It  was  our  turn  now  to  assume 
the  offensive.  The  guns  were  unlimbered  and 
grape  poured  into  them,  while  our  little  infantry 
force  advanced  at  the  double,  shooting  and  stab« 
bing  all  whom  they  overtook.  Never  have  I 
known  the  tide  of  battle  turn  so  rapidly  and  so 
decisively.  The  sullen  retreat  became  a  flight, 
and  the  flight  a  panic-stricken  rout,  until  there 
was  nothing  left  of  the  tribesmen  except  a  scat, 
tered,  demoralized  rabble  flying  wildly  to  their 
native  fastnesses  for  shelter  and  protection.  } 

I  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  let  them  off 
cheaply  now  that  I  had  them  in  my  power.  On 
the  contrary,  I  determined  to  teach  them  such  a 
lesson  that  the  sight  of  a  single  scarlet  uniform 
would  in  future  be  a  passport  in  itself.  We 
followed  hard  upon  the  track  of  the  fugitives 
and  entered  the  Terada  defile  at  their  very 


207 

heels.  Having-  detached  Chamberlain  and 
Elliott  with  a  company  on  either  side  to  protect 
my  wings,  I  pushed  on  with  my  Sepoys  and  a 
handful  of  artillerymen,  giving  them  no  time  to 
rally  or  to  recover  themselves.  We  were  so 
handicapped,  however,  by  our  stiff  European 
uniforms  and  by  our  want  of  practise  in  climbing, 
that  we  should  have  been  unable  to  overtake  any 
of  the  mountaineers  had  it  not  been  for  a  for- 
tunate accident.  There  is  a  smaller  ravine 
which  opens  into  the  main  pass,  and  in  their 
hurry  and  confusion  some  of  the  fugitives  rushed 
down  this.  I  saw  sixty  or  seventy  of  them  turn 
down,  but  I  should  have  passed  them  by  and 
continued  in  pursuit  of  the  main  body  had  not 
one  of  my  scouts  come  rushing1  up  to  inform  me 
that  the  smaller  ravine  was  a  cul-de-sac,  and  that 
the  Afreedees  who  had  gone  up  it  had  no  possi- 
ble means  of  getting  out  again  except  by  cutting 
their  way  through  our  ranks.  Here  was  an  oppor- 
tunity of  striking  terror  into  the  tribes.  Leaving 
Chamberlain  and  Elliott  to  continue  the  pursuit 
of  the  main  body,  I  wheeled  my  Sepoys  into  the 
narrow  pass  and  proceeded  slowly  down  it  in  ex- 
tended  order,  covering  the  whole  ground  from 
cliff  to  cliff.  Not  a  jackal  could  have  passed  un- 
seen. The  rebels  were  caught  like  rats  in  a  trap. 


208 

The  defile  in  which  we  found  ourselves  was 
the  most  gloomy  and  majestic  that  I  have  ever 
seen.  On  either  side  naked  precipices  rose 
sheer  up  fora  thousand  feet  or  more,  converging 
upon  each  other  so  as  to  leave  a  very  narrow- 
slit  of  daylight  above  us,  which  was  further 
reduced  by  the  feathery  fringe  of  palm  trees  and 
aloes  which  hung  over  each  lip  of  the  chasm. 
The  cliffs  were  not  more  than  a  couple  of  hun- 
dred yards  apart  at  the  entrance,  but  as  we 
advanced  they  grew  nearer  and  nearer,  until 
a  half  company  in  close  order  could  hardly 
march  abreast.  A  sort  of  twilight  reigned  in 
this  strange  valley,  and  the  dim,  uncertain  light 
made  the  great  basalt  rocks  loom  up  vague  and 
fantastic.  There  was  no  path,  and  the  ground 
was  most  uneven,  but  I  pushed  on  briskly,  cau- 
tioning my  fellows  to  have  their  fingers  on  their 
triggers,  for  I  could  see  that  we  were  nearing 
the  point  where  the  two  cliffs  would  form  an 
acute  angle  with  each  other. 

At  last  we  came  in  sight  of  the  place.  A  great 
pile  of  boulders  were  heaped  up  at  the  very  end 
of  the  pass,  and  among  these  our  fugitives  were 
skulking,  entirely  demoralized  apparently,  and 
incapable  of  resistance.  They  were  useless  aa 
prisoners,  and  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  let 


209 

them  go,  so  there  was  no  choice  but  to  polish 
them  off.  Waving  my  sword,  I  was  leading  my 
men  on,  when  we  had  a  most  dramatic  interrup- 
tion of  a  sort  which  I  have  seen  once  or  twice  on 
the  boards  of  Drury  Lane,  but  never  in  real  life. 
In  the  side  of  the  cliff,  close  to  the  pile  of 
stones  where  the  hillmen  were  making  their  last 
stand,  there  was  a  cave  which  looked  more  like 
the  lair  of  some  wild  beast  than  a  human  habita- 
tion. Out  of  this  dark  archway  there  suddenly 
emerged  an  old  man — such  a  very,  very  old  man 
that  all  the  other  veterans  whom  I  have  seen 
were  as  chickens  compared  to  him.  His  hair 
and  his  beard  were  both  as  white  as  snow,  and 
each  reached  more  than  half  way  to  his  waist. 
His  face  was  wrinkled  and  brown  and  bony,  a 
cross  between  a  monkey  and  a  mummy,  and  so 
thin  and  emaciated  were  his  shrivelled  limbs 
that  you  would  hardly  have  given  him  credit 
for  having  any  vitality  left,  were  it  not  for  his 
eyes,  which  glittered  and  sparkled  with  excite- 
ment, like  two  diamonds  in  a  setting  of  mahogany. 
This  apparition  came  rushing  out  of  the  cave, 
and,  throwing  himself  between  the  fugitives  and 
our  fellows,  motioned  us  back  with  as  imperious 
a  sweep  of  the  hand  as  ever  an  e»»yeror  used  to 
his  slav<*«. 


2IO 

"  Men  of  blood,"  he  cried,  in  a  voice  of  thun- 
der, speaking  excellent  English,  too — "  this  is  a 
place  for  prayer  and  meditation,  not  for  murder. 
Desist,  lest  the  wrath  of  the  gods  fall  upon 
you  r 

"  Stand  aside,  old  man,"  I  shouted.  "  You 
will  meet  with  a  hurt  if  you  don't  get  out  of  the 
way." 

I  could  see  that  the  hillmen  were  taking  heart, 
and  that  some  of  my  Sepoys  were  flinching,  as  if 
they  did  not  relish  this  new  enemy.  Clearly,  I 
must  act  promptly,  if  I  wished  to  complete  our 
success.  I  dashed  forward  at  the  head  of  the 
white  artillerymen  who  had  stuck  to  me.  The 
old  fellow  rushed  at  us  with  his  arms  out  as  if  to 
stop  us;  but  it  was  no  time  to  stick  at  trifles,  so 
I  passed  my  sword  through  his  body  at  the  same 
moment  that  one  of  the  gunners  brought  his 
carbine  down  upon  his  head.  He  dropped  in- 
stantly, and  the  hillmen,  at  the  sight  of  his  fall, 
,  set  up  the  most  unearthly  howl  of  horror  and 
consternation.  The  Sepoys,  who  had  been  in- 
clined  to  hang  back,  came  on  again  the  moment 
he  was  disposed  of,  and  it  did  not  take  us  long  to 
consummate  our  victory.  Hardly  a  man  of  the 
enemy  got  out  of  the  defile  alive.  What  could 
Hannibal  or  Caesar  have  done  mor?*  Our  own 


loss  in  the  whole  affair  has  been  insignificant— 
three  killed  and  about  fifteen  wounded.  Got 
their  banner,  a  green  wisp  of  a  thing  with  a 
sentence  of  the  Koran  engraved  upon  it. 

I  looked,  after  the  action,  for  the  old  chap,  but 
his  body  had  disappeared,  though  how  or  whither 
I  have  no  conception.  His  blood  be  upon  his 
own  head  !  He  would  be  alive  now  if  he  had 
not  interfered,  as  the  constables  say  at  home, 
"  with  an  officer  in  the  execution  of  his  duty." 
The  scouts  tell  me  that  his  name  was  Ghoolab 
Shah,  and  that  he  was  one  of  the  highest  and 
holiest  of  the  Buddhists.  He  had  great  fame  in 
the  district  as  a  prophet  and  worker  of  miracles 
— hence  the  hubbub  when  he  was  cut  down. 
They  tell  me  that  he  was  living  in  this  very  cave 
when  Tamerlane  passed  this  way  in  1397,  with  a 
lot  more  bosh  of  the  sort.  I  went  into  the  cave, 
and  how  any  man  could  live  in  it  a  week  is  a 
mystery  to  me,  for  it  was  little  more  than  four 
feet  high,  and  as  damp  and  dismal  a  grotto  as 
ever  was  seen.  A  wooden  settle  and  a  rough 
table  was  the  sole  furniture,  with  a  lot  of  parch, 
ment  scrolls  covered  with  hieroglyphics.  Well, 
he  has  gone  where  he  will  learn  that  the  gospel 
of  peace  and  goodwill  is  superior  to  all  his  Pagan 
lore.  Peace  go  with  him? 


212 

Elliott  and  Chamberlain  never  caught  the  main 
body — I  knew  they  wouldn't — so  the  honors 
of  the  day  rest  with  me.  I  ought  to  get  a  step 
for  k,  anyhow,  and  perhaps,  who  knows?  some 
mention  in  the  Gazette.  What  a  lucky  chance  ! 
I  think  Zemaun  deserves  his  telescope  after  all 
for  giving  it  to  me.  Shall  have  something  to  eat 
now,  for  I  am  half  starved.  Glory  is  an  excellent 
thing,  but  you  cannot  live  upon  it. 

October  6,  II  A.  M. — Let  me  try  to  set  down  as 
calmly  and  as  accurately  as  I  can  all  that  occurred 
last  night.  I  have  never  been  a  dreamer  or  a 
visionary,  so  I  can  rely  upon  my  own  senses, 
though  I  am  bound  to  say  that  if  any  other  fellow 
had  told  me  the  same  thing  I  should  have  doubted 
him.  I  might  even  have  suspected  that  I  was 
deceived  at  the  time  had  I  not  heard  the  bell 
since.  However,  I  must  narrate  what  happened. 

Elliott  was  in  my  tent  with  me  having  a  quiet 
cheroot  until  about  ten  o'clock.  I  then  walked 
the  rounds  with  my  jemidar,  and  having  seen 
that  all  was  right  I  turned  in  a  little  before  eleven. 
I  was  just  dropping  off  to  sleep,  for  I  was  dog- 
tired  after  the  day's  work,  when  I  was  aroused 
by  some  slight  noise,  and,  looking  round,  I  saw  a 
man  dressed  in  Asiatic  costume  standing  at  the 
entrance  of  my  tent,  He  wr^  motionless  when  I 


aaw  him,  and  he  had  his  eyes  fixed  upon  me  with 
a  solemn  and  stern  expression.  My  first  thought 
was  that  the  fellow  was  some  Ghazi  or  Afghan 
fanatic  who  had  stolen  in  with  the  intention  of 
stabbing  me,  and  with  this  idea  in  my  mind  I  bad 
all  the  will  to  spring  from  my  couch  and  defend 
myself,  but  the  power  was  unaccountably  lack- 
ing.  An  overpowering  languor  and  want  of 
energy  possessed  me.  Had  I  seen  the  dagger  de- 
scending upon  my  breast  I  could  not  have  made 
an  effort  to  avert  it.  I  suppose  a  bird  when  it  is 
under  the  influence  of  a  snake  feels  very  much 
as  I  did  in  the  presence  of  this  gloomy-faced 
stranger.  My  mind  was  clear  enough,  but  my 
body  was  as  torpid  as  though  I  were  still  asleep. 
I  shut  my  eyes  once  or  twice  and  tried  to  per- 
suade myself  that  the  whole  thing  was  a  delusion, 
but  every  time  that  I  opened  them  there  was  the 
man  Still  regarding  me  with  the  same  stony, 
menacing  stare.  The  silence  became  unendura- 
ble. I  felt  that  I  must  overcome  my  languor  so 
far  as  to  address  him.  I  am  not  a  nervous  man, 
and  I  never  knew  before  what  Virgil  meant  when 
he  wrote  "  adhaesit  faucibus  ora"  At  last  I 
managed  to  stammer  out  a  few  words,  asking  the 
intruder  who  he  was  and  what  he  wanted. 
"  Lieutenant  Heatherstone,"  he  answered, 


314 

speaking  slowly  and  gravely,  *  you  have  conv 
mitted  this  day  the  foulest  sacrilege  and  the 
greatest  crime  which  it  is  possible  for  man  to  do. 
You  have  slain  one  of  the  thrice  blessed  and 
reverent  ones,  an  arch  adept  of  the  first  degree, 
an  elder  brother  who  has  trod  the  higher  path 
for  more  years  than  you  have  numbered  months. 
You  have  cut  him  off  at  a  time  when  his  labors 
promised  to  reach  a  climax,  and  when  he  was 
about  to  attain  a  height  of  occult  knowledge 
which  would  have  brought  man  one  step  nearer 
to  the  Creator.  All  this  you  have  done  without 
excuse,  without  provocation,  at  a  time  when  he 
was  pleading  the  cause  of  the  helpless  and  dis- 
tressed. Listen  now  to  me,  John  Heatherstone. 
"  When  first  the  occult  sciences  were  pursued 
many  thousands  of  years  ago,  it  was  found  by  the 
learned  that  the  short  tenure  of  human  existence 
was  too  limited  to  allow  a  man  to  attain  the 
loftiest  heights  of  inner  life.  The  inquirers  of 
those  days  directed  their  energies  in  the  first 
place,  therefore,  to  the  lengthening  of  their  own 
days  in  order  that  they  might  have  more  scope 
for  improvement.  By  their  knowledge  of  the 
secret  laws  of  Nature  they  were  enabled  to 
fortify  their  bodies  against  disease  and  old  age. 
It  only  remained  to  protect  themselves  against 


215 

the  assaults  of  wicked  and  violent  men  who  ara 
ever  ready  to  destroy  what  is  wiser  and  nobler 
than  themselves.  There  was  no  direct  means  by 
which  this  protection  could  be  effected,  but  it 
was  in  some  measure  attained  by  arranging  the 
occult  forces  in  such  a  way  that  a  terrible  and 
unavoidable  retribution  should  await  the  offen- 
der. It  was  irrevocably  ordained  bylaws  which 
cannot  be  reversed  that  any  one  who  should 
shed  the  blood  of  a  brother  who  had  attained  a 
certian  degree  of  sanctity  should  be  a  doomed 
man.  Those  laws  are  extant  to  this  day,  John 
Heatherstone,  and  you  have  placed  yourself  in 
their  power.  King  or  emperor  would  be  help, 
less  before  the  forces  which  you  have  called  into 
play.  What  hope,  then,  is  there  for  you  ? 

"  In  former  days  these  laws  acted  so  instan- 
taneously that  the  slayer  perished  with  his 
victim.  It  was  judged  afterwards  that  this 
prompt  retribution  prevented  the  offender  from 
having  time  to  realize  the  enormity  of  his 
offense.  It  was  therefore  ordained  that  in  all 
such  cases  the  retribution  should  be  left  in  the 
hands  of  the  chelas,  or  immediate  disciples  of 
the  holy  man,  with  power  to  extend  or  shorten 
it  at  their  will,  exacting  it  either  at  the  time  or 
at  any  future  anniversary  of  the  day  when  the 


216 

crime  was  committed.  Why  punishment  should 
come  on  those  days  only  it  does  not  concern  you 
to  know.  Suffice  it  that  you  are  the  murderer 
of  Ghoolab  Shah,  the  thrice  blessed,  and  that  I 
am  the  senior  of  his  three  chelas  commissioned 
to  avenge  his  death. 

"  It  is  no  personal  matter  between  us.  Amid 
our  studies  we  have  no  leisure  or  inclination  for 
personal  matters.  It  is  an  immutable  law,  and 
it  is  as  impossible  for  us  to  relax  it  as  it  is  for 
you  to  escape  from  it.  Sooner  or  later  we  shall 
come  to  you  and  claim  your  life  in  atonement 
for  the  one  which  you  have  taken.  The  same 
fate  shall  be  meted  out  to  the  wretched  soldier, 
Smith,  who,  though  less  guilty  than  yourself,  has 
incurred  the  same  penalty  by  raising  his  sacri- 
legious  hand  against  the  chosen  of  Buddha.  If 
your  life  is  prolonged  it  is  merely  that  you  may 
have  time  to  repent  of  your  misdeed  and  to  feel 
the  full  force  of  your  punishment.  And  lest  you 
should  be  tempted  [to  cast  it  out  of  your  mind 
and  to  forget  it,  our  bell — our  astral  bell,  the 
use  of  which  is  one  of  our  occult  secrets — shall 
ever  remind  you  of  what  has  been  and  what  is 
to  be.  You  shall  hear  it  by  day  and  you  shall 
hear  it  by  night,  and  it  will  be  a  sign  to  you 
that,  do  what  you  may  and  go  where  you  will, 


217 

you  can  never  shake  yourself  clear  of  the  chelas 
of  Ghoolab  Shah.  You  will  never  see  me  more, 
accursed  one,  until  the  day  when  we  come  for 
you.  Live  in  fear,  and  in  that  anticipation 
which  is  worse  than  death."  With  a  menacing 
wave  of  the  hand  the  figure  turned  and  swept 
out  of  my  tent  into  the  darkness. 

The  instant  that  the  fellow  disappeared  from 
my  sight  I  recovered  from  the  lethargy  which 
had  fallen  upon  me.  Springing  to  my  feet,  I 
rushed  to  the  opening  and  looked  out.  A 
Sepoy  sentry  was  standing  leaning  upon  his 
musket,  a  few  paces  off. 

"  You  dog,"  I  said  in  Hindustani.  "  What  do 
you  mean  by  letting  people  disturb  me  in  this 
way  ?" 

The  man  stared  at  me  in  amazement.  "  Has 
any  one  disturbed  the  Sahib  ?"  he  asked. 

"  This  instant — this  moment.  You  must  have 
seen  him  pass  out  of  my  tent" 

"  Surely  the  Burra  Sahib  is  mistaken,"  the 
m\n  answered,  respectfully  but  firmly.  "  I  have 
been  here  for  an  hour,  and  no  one  has  passed 
from  the  tent." 

Puzzled  and  disconcerted,  I  was  sitting  by  the 
side  of  my  couch  wondering  whether  the  whole 
tning  was  a  delusion,  brought  on  by  the  nervous 


218 

excitement  of  our  skirmish,  when  a  new  marvel 
overtook  me.  From  over  my  head  there  sud* 
denly  sounded  a  sharp,  tinkling  sound,  like  that 
produced  by  an  empty  glass  when  flipped  by  the 
nail,  only  louder  and  more  intense.  I  looked  up* 
but  nothing  was  to  be  seen.  I  examined  the 
whole  interior  of  the  tent  carefully,  but  without 
discovering  any  cause  for  the  strange  sound. 
At  last,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  I  gave  the 
mystery  up,  and  throwing  myself  upon  the 
couch  was  soon  fast  asleep.  When  I  woke  this 
morning  I  was  inclined  to  put  the  whole  of  my 
yesterday  night's  experiences  down  to  imagina. 
tion,  but  I  was  soon  disabused  of  the  idea,  for  I 
had  hardly  risen  before  the  same  strange  sound 
was  repeated  in  my  very  ear  as  loudly,  and  to 
all  appearance  as  causelessly,  as  before.  What 
it  is  or  where  it  comes  from  I  cannot  conceive.  I 
have  not  heard  it  since.  Can  the  fellow's  threats 
have  something  in  them  and  this  be  the  warning 
bell  of  which  he  spoke  ?  Surely  it  is  impossible. 
Yet  his  manner  was  indescribably  impressive. 
I  have  tried  to  set  down  what  he  said  as  accur- 
ately as  I  can,  but  I  fear  I  have  omitted  a  good 
deal.  What  is  to  be  the  end  of  this  strange 
affair  ?  I  must  go  in  for  a  course  of  religion  and 
holy  water.  Not  a  word  to  Chamberlain  or 


219 

Elliott.  They  tell  me  I  am  looking  like  a  ghost 
this  morning. 

Evening. — Have  managed  to  compare  notes 
with  Gunner  Rufus  Smith  of  the  Artillery,  who 
knocked  the  old  fellow  over  with  the  butt  of  his 
gun.  His  experience  has  been  the  same  as 
mine.  He  has  heard  the  sound  too.  What  is 
the  meaning  of  it  all  ?  My  brain  is  in  a  whirl. 

Oct.  10  (four  days  later). — God  help  us  !         & 

This  last  laconic  entry  terminated  the  journal. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  coming  as  it  did  after  four 
days'  complete  silence  it  told  a  clearer  tale  of 
a  shaken  nerve  and  a  broken  spirit  than  could 
any  more  elaborate  narrative.  Pinned  on  to  the 
journal  was  a  supplementary  statement  which 
had  evidently  been  recently  added  by  the 
general. 

"  From  that  day  to  this,"  it  said,  "  I  have  had 
no  night  or  day  free  from  the  intrusion  of  that 
dreadful  sound  with  its  accompanying  train  of 
thought.  Time  and  custom  have  brought  me  no 
relief,  but,  on  the  contrary,  as  the  years  pass 
over  my  head  my  physical  strength  decreases 
and  my  nerves  become  less  able  to  bear  up 
against  the  continual  strain.  I  am  a  broken  man 


220 

In  mind  and  body.  I  live  in  a  state  of  tension, 
always  straining  my  ears  for  the  hated  sound, 
afraid  to  converse  with  my  fellows  for  fear  of 
exposing  my  dreadful  condition  to  them,  with 
no  comfort  or  hope  of  comfort  on  this  side  of  the 
grave.  I  should  be  willing,  Heaven  knows,  to 
die,  and  yet  as  each  5th  of  October  comes  round 
I  am  prostrated  with  fear  because  I  do  not  know 
what  strange  and  terrible  experience  may  be  in 
store  for  me.  Forty  years  have  passed  since  I 
slew  Ghoolab  Shah,  and  forty  times  I  have  gone 
through  all  the  horrors  of  death,  without  attain- 
ing the  blessed  peace  which  lies  beyond.  I  have 
no  means  of  knowing  in  what  shape  my  fate  will 
come  upon  me.  I  have  immured  myself  in  this 
lonely  country,  and  surrounded  myself  with 
barriers,  because  in  my  weaker  moments  my 
instincts  urge  me  to  take  some  steps  for  self, 
protection,  but  I  know  well  in  my  heart  how 
futile  it  all  is.  They  must  come  quickly  now 
for  I  grow  old,  and  Nature  will  forestall  them 
unless  they  make  haste. 

"  I  take  credit  to  myself  that  I  ha'/e  kept  my 
hands  off  the  prussic  acid  or  opium  bottle.  It 
has  always  been  in  my  power  to  checkmate  my 
occult  persecutors  in  that  way,  but  I  have  ever 
held  that  a  man  in  this  world  cannot  desert  his 


221 

post  until  he  has  been  relieved  in  due  course  by 
the  authorities.  I  have  had  no  scruples,  how- 
ever, about  exposing  myself  to  danger,  and  dur- 
ing the  Sikh  and  Sepoy  wars  I  did  all  that  a  man 
could  do  to  court  death.  He  passed  me  by, 
however,  and  picked  out  many  a  young  fellow 
to  whom  life  was  only  opening  and  who  had 
everything  to  live  for,  while  I  survived  to  win 
crosses  and  honors  which  had  lost  all  relish  for 
me.  Well,  well,  these  things  cannot  depend 
upon  chance,  and  there  is  no  doubt  some  deep 
reason  for  it  all.  One  compensation  Providence 
has  made  me  in  the  shape  of  a  true  and  faithful 
wife,  to  whom  I  told  my  dreadful  secret  before 
the  wedding,  and  who  nobly  consented  to  share 
my  lot.  She  has  lifted  half  the  burden  from  my 
shoulders,  but  with  the  effect,  poor  soul,  of 
crushing  her  own  life  beneath  its  weight.  My 
children,  too,  have  been  a  comfort  to  me.  Mor= 
daunt  knows  all,  or  nearly  all.  Gabriel  we  have 
endeavored  to  keep  in  the  dark,  though  we  can 
not  prevent  her  from  knowing  that  there  is 
something  amiss.  I  should  like  this  statement 
to  be  shown  to  Dr.  John  Easterling,  of  Stran- 
raer.  He  heard  on  one  occasion  this  haunting 
sound.  My  sad  experience  may  show  him  that 
I  spoke  truth  when  I  said  that  there  was  much 


222 

knowledge  in  the  world  which  has  never  found 
its  way  to  England  yet. 

"  J.  B.  HEATHERSTONE." 

It  was  going  on  for  dawn  by  the  time  that  I 
had  finished  this  extraordinary  narrative,  to 
which  my  sister  and  Mordaunt  Heatherstone 
listened  with  the  most  absorbed  attention. 
Already  we  could  see  through  the  window  that 
the  stars  had  begun  to  fade  and  a  grey  light  to 
appear  in  the  east.  The  crofter  who  owned  the 
lurcher  dog  lived  a  couple  of  miles  off,  so  it  was 
time  for  us  to  be  on  foot.  Leaving  Esther  to  tell 
my  father  the  story  in  such  fashion  as  she  might, 
we  thrust  some  food  in  our  pockets  and  set  off 
upon  our  solemn  and  eventful  errand. 


221 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

AT  THE  HOLE  OF  CREE. 

IT  was  dark  enough  when  we  started  to  make 
it  no  easy  matter  to  find  our  way  across  the 
moors,  but  as  we  advanced  it  grew  lighter  and 
lighter,  until  by  the  time  we  reached  Fullarton's 
cabin  it  was  broad  daylight.  Early  as  it  was,  he 
was  up  and  about,  for  the  Wigtown  peasants  are 
an  early  rising  race.  We  explained  our  mission 
to  him  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  and  having 
made  his  bargain — what  Scot  ever  neglected 
that  preliminary — he  agreed  not  only  to  let  us 
have  the  use  of  his  dog  but  to  come  with  us  him- 
self.  Mordaunt,  in  his  desire  for  privacy,  would 
have  demurred  at  this  arrangement,  but  I  pointed 
out  to  him  that  we  had  no  idea  what  was  in  store 
for  us,  and  the  addition  of  a  strong,  able- 
bodied  man  to  our  party  might  prove  to  be  of 
the  utmost  consequence.  Again,  the  dog  was 
less  likely  to  give  us  trouble  if  we  had  its  master 
to  control  it.  My  argnments  carried  the  day, 


224 

and  the  biped  accompanied  us  as  well  as  his  four, 
footed  companion. 

There  was  some  little  similarity  between  the 
two,  for  the  man  was  a  tousy-headed  fellow  with 
a  great  mop  of  yellow  hair  and  a  straggling 
beard,  while  the  dog  was  of  the  long-haired,  un- 
kempt breed  looking  like  an  animated  bundle  of 
oakum.  All  our  way  to  the  Hall  its  owner  kept 
retailing  instances  of  the  creature's  sagacity  and 
powers  of  scent,  which,  according  to  his  account, 
were  little  less  than  miraculous.  His  anecdotes 
had  a  poor  audience,  I  fear,  for  my  mind  was 
filled  with  the  strange  story  which  I  had  been 
reading,  while  Mordaunt  strolled  on  with  wild 
eyes  and  feverish  cheeks,  without  a  thought  for 
any  thing  but  the  problem  which  we  had  to  solve. 
Again  and  again  as  we  topped  an  eminence,  I 
saw  him  look  eagerly  round  him  in  the  faint  hope 
of  seeing  some  trace  of  the  absentee,  but  over 
the  whole  expanse  of  moorland  there  was  no 
sign  of  movement  or  of  life.  All  was  dead  and 
silent  and  deserted. 

Our  visit  to  the  Hall  was  a  very  brief  one,  for 
every  minute  now  was  of  importance.  Mor- 
daunt rushed  in  and  emerged  with  an  old  coat 
of  his  father's,  which  he  handed  to  Fullarton, 
who  held  it  out  to  the  dog.  The  intoUigent 


225 

brute  sniffed  at  it  all  over,  then  ran  whining  a 
little  way  down  the  avenue,  came  back  to  sniff 
the  coat  again,  and  finally  elevating  its  stump  of 
a  tail  in  triumph,  uttered  a  succession  of  sharp 
yelps  to  show  that  it  was  satisfied  that  it  had 
struck  the  trail.  Its  owner  tied  a  long  cord  to 
its  collar  to  prevent  it  from  going  too  fast  for 
us,  and  we  all  set  off  upon  our  search,  the  dog 
tugging  and  straining  at  its  leash  in  its  excite- 
ment as  it  followed  in  the  general's  footsteps. 

Our  way  lay  for  a  couple  of  hundred  yards 
along  the  high  road,  and  then  passed  through  a 
gap  in  the  hedge  and  on  to  the  moor,  across 
which  we  were  led  in  a  bee-line  to  the  north- 
ward. The  sun  had  by  this  time  risen  above  the 
horizon,  and  the  whole  countryside  looked  so 
fresh  and  sweet,  from  the  blue,  sparkling  sea  to 
the  purple  mountains,  that  it  was  difficult  to 
realize  how  weird  and  uncanny  was  the  enter- 
prise upon  which  we  were  engaged. 

The  scent  must  have  lain  strongly  upon  the 
ground,  for  the  dog  never  hesitated  nor  stopped, 
dragging  its  master  along  at  a  pace  which  ren- 
dered conversation  impossible.  At  one  place, 
in  crossing  a  small  stream,  we  seemed  to  get  off 
the  trail  for  a  few  minutes,  but  our  keen-nosed 
ally  SOOQ  picked  it  up  upon  the  'ther  side  and 


226 


followed  it  over  the  trackless  moor,  whining  and 
yelping  all  the  time  in  its  eagerness.  Had  we  not 
all  three  been  fleet  of  foot  and  long  of  wind,  we 
could  not  have  persisted  in  the  continuous  rapid 
journey  over  the  roughest  of  ground,  with  the 
heather  often  well-nigh  up  to  our  waists. 

For  my  own  part,  I  have  no  idea  now,  looking 
back,  what  goal  it  was  which  I  expected  to 
reach  at  the  end  of  our  pursuit.  I  can  remem.. 
ber  that  my  mind  was  full  of  the  vaguest  and 
most  varying  speculations.  Could  it  be  that  the 
three  Buddhists  had  had  a  craft  in  readiness  off 
the  coast,  and  had  embarked  with  their  prisoners 
for  the  East  ?  The  direction  of  their  track 
seemed  at  first  to  favor  this  supposition,  for  it 
lay  in  the  line  of  the  upper  end  of  the  bay,  but 
it  ended  by  branching  off  and  striking  inland. 
Clearly  the  ocean  was  not  to  be  our  terminus. 

By  ten  o'clock  we  had  walked  close  upon 
twelve  miles,  and  were  compelled  to  call  a  halt 
for  a  few  minutes  to  recover  our  breath,  for  the 
last  mile  or  two  we  had  been  breasting  the  long, 
wearying  slope  of  the  Wigtown  hills.  From  the 
summit  of  this  range,  which  is  nowhere  more 
than  a  thousand  feet  in  height,  we  could  see, 
looking  northward,  such  a  scene  of  bleakness  and 
desolation  as  can  hardly  be  matched  in  any 


227 

country.  Right  away  to  the  horizon  stretched 
the  broad  expanse  of  mud  and  of  water,  min. 
gled  and  mixed  together  in  the  wildest  chaos, 
like  a  portion  of  some  world  in  the  process  of 
formation.  Here  and  there  on  the  dun-colored 
surface  of  this  great  marsh  there  had  burst  out 
patches  of  sickly  yellow  reeds  and  of  livid, 
greenish  scum,  which  only  served  to  heighten 
and  intensify  the  gloomy  effect  of  the  dull,  mel- 
ancholy expanse.  On  the  side  nearest  to  us  some 
abandoned  peat  cuttings  showed  that  ubiquitous 
man  had  been  at  work  there,  but  beyond  these 
few  petty  scars  there  was  no  sign  anywhere  of 
human  life.  Not  even  a  crow  or  a  seagull 
flapped  their  way  over  that  hideous  desert. 

This  is  the  great  bog  of  Cree,  which  may  be 
seen  in  the  maps  to  extend  over  a  considerable 
surface  of  the  shire  of  Wigtown.  It  is  a  salt- 
water  marsh  formed  by  an  inroad  of  the  sea,  and 
so  intersected  is  it  with  dangerous  swamps  and 
treacherous  pitfalls  of  liquid  mud,  that  no  man 
would  venture  through  it  unless  he  had  the 
guidance  of  one  of  the  few  peasants  who  retain  the 
secret  o\  its  paths.  As  we  approached  the  fringe 
of  rushes  which  marked  its  border,  a  foul,  dank 
smell  rose  up  from  the  stagnant  wilderness,  as 
from  impure  water  and  decaying  vegetation — a* 


228 

earthy,  noisome  smell  which  poisoned  the  fresh, 
upland  air.  So  forbidding  and  gloomy  was  the 
aspect  of  the  place  that  our  stout  crofter  hesi- 
tated,  and  it  was  all  that  we  could  do  to  persuade 
him  to  proceed.  Our  lurcher,  however,  not 
being  subject  to  the  delicate  impressions  of  our 
higher  organizations,  still  ran  yelping  along  with 
its  nose  on  the  ground  and  every  fibre  of  its  body 
quivering  with  excitement  and  eagerness. 

There  was  no  difficulty  about  picking  our  way 
through  the  morass,  for  wherever  the  five  could 
go  we  three  could  follow.  If  we  could  have 
had  any  doubts  as  to  our  dog's  guidance  they 
would  all  have  been  removed  now,  for  in  the 
soft,  black,  oozing  soil  we  could  distinctly  trace 
the  tracks  of  the  whole  party.  From  these  we 
could  see  that  they  had  walked  abreast,  and, 
furthermore,  that  each  was  about  equi-distant 
from  the  other.  Clearly,  then,  no  physical  force 
had  been  used  in  taking  the  general  and  his 
companion  along.  The  compulsion  had  been 
psychical  and  not  material. 

Once  within  the  swamp  we  had  to  be  careful 
not  to  deviate  from  the  narrow  track,  which 
offered  a  firm  foothold.  On  each  side  lay  shallow 
sheets  of  stagnant  water  overlying  a  treacherous 
bottom  of  semifluid  mud,  vSich  rose  above  th« 


229 

surface  here  and  there  in  moist,  sweltering 
banks,  mottled  over  with  occasional  patches  of 
unhealthy  vegetation.  Great  purple  and  yellow 
fungi  had  broken  out  in  a  dense  eruption,  as 
though  nature  were  afflicted  with  a  foul  disease, 
which  manifested  itself  by  this  crop  of  plague 
soots.  Here  and  there  dark,  crab-like  creatures 
scuttled  across  our  path,  and  hideous,  flesh- 
colored  worms  wriggled  and  writhed  amid  the 
sickly  reeds.  Swarms  of  buzzing,  piping  insects 
rose  up  at  every  step  and  formed  a  dense  cloud 
around  our  heads,  settling  on  our  hands  and 
faces  and  inoculating  us  with  their  filthy  venom. 
Never  had  I  ventured  into  so  pestilent  and  for- 
bidding a  place.  Mordaunt  Heatherstone  strode 
on,  however,  with  a  set  purpose  upon  his  swarthy 
brow,  and  we  could  but  follow  him,  determined 
to  stand  by  him  to  the  end  of  the  adventure. 

As  we  advanced  the  path  grew  narrower  and 
narrower  until,  as  we  saw  by  the  tracks,  our  pre- 
decessors had  been  compelled  to  walk  in  single 
file.  Fullarton  was  leading  us  with  the  dog, 
Mordaunt  behind  him,  while  I  brought  up  the 
rear.  The  peasant  had  been  sulky  and  surly  for 
a  little  time  back,  hardly  answering  when  spoken 
to,  but  he  now  stopped  short  and  positively  rc« 
fused  to  go  a  step  further. 


230 

"  It*s  no  canny,**  he  said ;  "  besides,  I  ken 
where  it  will  lead  us  tae  1" 

"  Where,  then  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Tae  the  Hole  o'  Cree,"  he  answered.  "  It's 
no  far  frae  here  I'm  thinking." 

"  The  Hole  of  Cree  !     What  is  that,  then  ?" 

"  It's  a  great,  muckle  hole  in  the  ground  that 
gangs  awa'  doun  so  deep  that  naebody  could 
ever  reach  the  bottom.  Indeed  there  are  folk 
wha  say  that  it's  just  a  door  leadin'  intae  the 
bottomless  pit  itsel1." 

"  You  have  been  there,  then  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Been  there  !"  he  cried.  "  What  would  I  be 
doin'  at  the  Hole  o'  Cree?  No,  I've  never  been 
there,  nor  any  other  man  in  his  senses." 

"  How  do  you  know  about  it,  then  ?" 

"My  great  grandfeyther  had  been  there,  and 
that's  how  I  ken,"  Fullarton  answered.  "  He 
was  fou'  one  Saturday  nicht  and  he  went  for  a 
bet.  He  didna  like  tae  talk  aboot  it  afterwards, 
and  he  wouldna*  tell  a'  what  befell  him,  but  he 
was  aye  feared  o'  the  very  name.  He's  the  first 
Fullarton  that's  been  at  the  Hole  o'  Cree,  and 
he'll  be  the  last  for  me.  If  ye'll  tak'  my  advice 
ye'Il  just  gie  the  matter  up  and  gang  hame  again 
for  there's  no  guid  tae  be  got  oot  o'  this  place." 

"  We  shall  go  on  with  you  or  without  you,* 


Mordaunt  answered.    "  Let  us  have  your  dog 
and  we  can  pick  you  up  on  our  way  back." 

"  Na,  na,"  he  cried ;  "  I'll  no  hae  my  dog 
scared  \vi*  bogles  and  running  down  Auld  Nick 
as  if  he  were  a  hare.  The  dog  shall  bide  \vi'(- 
me." 

"  The  dog  shall  go  with  us,"  said  my  compan- 
ion, with  his  eyes  blazing.  "  We  have  no  time 
to  argue  with  you.  Here's  a  five-pound  note. 
Let  us  have  the  dog,  or,  by  heavens,  I  shall  take 
it  by  force  and  throw  you  in  the  bog  if  you 
hinder  us."  I  could  realize  the  Heatherstone  of 
forty  years  ago  when  I  saw  the  fierce  and  sud- 
den wrath  which  lit  up  the  features  of  his  son. 

Either  the  bribe  or  the  threat  had  the  desired 
effect ;  for  the  fellow  grabbed  at  the  money  with 
one  hand  while  with  the  other  he  surrendered 
the  leash  which  held  the  lurcher.  Leaving  him 
to  retrace  his  steps,  we  continued  to  make  our 
way  into  the  utmost  recesses  of  the  great  swamp. 
The  tortuous  path  grew  less  and  less  defined  as 
we  proceeded,  and  was  even  covered  in  places 
with  water  ;  but  the  increasing  excitement  of  the 
hound  and  the  sight  of  the  deep  foot-marks  in 
the  mud,  stimulated  us  to  push  on.  At  last, 
after  struggling  through  a  grove  of  high  bul- 
rushes, we  came  on  a  spot  the  gloomy  horror  of 


232 

which  might  have  furnished  Dante  with  a  fresh 
terror  for  his  Inferno. 

The  whole  bog  in  this  part  appeared  to  have 
sunk  in,  forming  a  great  funnel-shaped  depres- 
sion, which  terminated  in  the  centre  in  a  circular 
rift  or  opening  about  forty  paces  in  diameter. 
It  was  a  whirlpool — a  perfect  maelstrom  of  mud 
sloping  down  on  every  side  to  this  silent  and 
awful  chasm.  Clearly  this  was  the  spot  which, 
under  the  name  of  the  Hole  of  Cree,  bore  such 
a  sinister  reputation  among  the  rustics.  I  could 
not  wonder  at  its  impressing  their  imagination, 
for  a  weirder  or  more  gloomy  scene,  or  one 
more  worthy  of  the  avenue  which  led  to  it, 
could  not  be  conceived.  The  steps  passed  down 
the  declivity  which  surrounded  the  abyss,  and 
we  followed  them  with  a  sinking  feeling  in  our 
hearts,  as  we  realized  that  this  was  the  end  of 
our  search.  A  little  way  from  the  downward 
path  was  the  return  trail  made  by  the  feet  of 
those  who  had  come  back  from  the  chasm's 
edge.  Our  eyes  fell  upon  these  tracks  at  the 
same  moment,  and  we  each  gave  a  cry  of  horror, 
and  stood  gazing  speechlessly  at  them.  For 
there,  in  those  blurred  footmarks,  the  whole 
drama  was  revealed,  five  had  gone  down,  but 
only  three  had  returned. 


233 

None  shall  ever  know  the  details  of  that 
strange  tragedy.  There  was  no  mark  of  struggle 
or  sign  of  attempt  at  escape.  We  knelt  at  the 
edge  of  the  Hole  and  endeavored  to  pierce  the 
unfathomable  gloom  which  shrouded  it.  A  faint, 
sickly  exhalation  seemed  to  rise  from  its  depths, 
and  there  was  a  distant,  hurrying,  clattering 
sound  as  of  waters  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth.  A 
great  stone  lay  embedded  in  the  mud,  and  this  I 
hurled  over,  but  we  never  heard  thud  or  splash 
to  show  that  it  had  reached  the  bottom.  As  we 
hung  over  the  noisome  chasm  a  sound  did  at 
last  rise  to  our  ears  out  of  its  murky  depths. 
High,  clear,  and  throbbing,  it  tinkled  for  an  in- 
stant out  of  the  abyss,  to  be  succeeded  by  the 
same  deadly  stillness  which  had  preceded  it.  I 
do  not  wish  to  appear  to  be  superstitious,  or 
to  put  down  to  extraordinary  causes  that  which 
may  have  a  natural  explanation.  That  one  keen 
note  may  have  been  some  strange  water  sound 
produced  far  down  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 
It  may  have  been  that  or  it  may  have  been  that 
sinister  bell  of  which  I  had  heard  so  much.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  it  was  the  only  sign  that  rose  to 
us  from  the  last  terrible  resting-place  of  the  two 
who  had  paid  the  debt  which  had  so  long  been 
owing. 


234 

We  joined  our  voices  in  a  call  with  the  un- 
reasoning  obstinacy  with  which  men  will  cling 
to  hope,  but  no  answer  came  back  to  us  save  a 
thousand  hollow  reverberations  from  the  depths 
beneath.  Footsore  and  heart-sick,  we  retraced 
our  steps  and  climbed  the  slimy  slope  once 
more. 

"  What  shall  we  do,  Mordaunt  ?"  I  asked,  in  a 
subdued  voice.  "  We  can  but  pray  that  their 
souls  may  rest  in  peace." 

Young  Heatherstone  looked  at  me  with  flash- 
ing  eyes.  "  This  may  be  all  according  to  occult 
laws,"  he  cried,  "  but  we  shall  see  what  the  laws 
of  England  have  to  say  upon  it.  I  suppose  a 
chela  may  be  hanged  as  well  as  any  other  man. 
It  may  not  be  too  late  yet  to  run  them  down. 
Here,  good  dog,  good  dog — here  !"  He  pulled 
the  hound  over  and  set  it  on  the  track  of  the 
three  men.  The  creature  sniffed  at  it  once  or 
twice,  and  then,  falling  upon  its  stomach,  with 
bristling  hair  and  protruding  tongue,  it  lay 
shivering  and  trembling,  a  very  embodiment  of 
canine  terror. 

"  You  see,"  I  said,  "  it  is  no  use  contending 
against  those  who  have  powers  at  their  com- 
mand  which  we  cannot  even  give  a  name  to. 
There  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  accept  the  i 


table,  and  to  hope  that  these  poor  men  may 
meet  with  some  compensation  in  another  world 
for  all  that  they  have  suffered  in  this." 

"  And  be  free  from  all  devilish  religions  and 
their  murderous  worshippers !"  Mordaunt  cried, 
furiously. 

Justice  compelled  me  to  acknowledge  in  my 
own  heart  that  the  murderous  spirit  had  been 
set  on  foot  by  the  Christian  before  it  was  taken 
up  by  the  Buddhists,  but  I  forebore  to  remark 
upon  it  for  fear  of  irritating  my  companion. 
For  a  long  time  I  could  not  draw  him  away  from 
the  scene  of  his  father's  death,  but  at  last,  by 
repeated  arguments  and  reasonings,  I  succeeded 
in  making  him  realize  how  useless  and  unprofit- 
able any  further  efforts  on  our  part  must  neces- 
sarily prove,  and  in  inducing  him  to  return  with 
me  to  Cloomber.  Oh !  the  wearisome,  tedious 
journey  !  It  had  seemed  long  enough  when  we 
had  some  slight  flicker  of  hope,  or  at  least  of 
expectation,  before  us,  but  now  that  our  worst 
fears  were  fulfilled  it  appeared  interminable. 
We  picked  up  our  peasant  guide  at  the  outskirts 
of  the  marsh,  and  having  restored  his  dog  we  let 
him  find  his  own  way  home,  without  telling  him 
anything  of  the  results  of  our  expedition.  We 
ourselves  plodded  all  day  over  the  moors  with 


236 

heavy  feet  and  heavier  hearts  until  we  saw  the 
ill-omened  tower  of  Cloomber,  and  at  last,  as  the 
sun  was  setting,  found  ourselves  once  more 
beneath  its  roof. 

There  is  no  need  for  me  to  enter  into  further 
details,  or  to  describe  the  grief  which  our  tidings 
conveyed  to  mother  and  to  daughter.  Their 
long  expectation  of  some  calamity  was  not  suffi- 
cient to  prepare  them  for  the  terrible  reality. 
For  weeks  my  poor  Gabriel  hovered  between 
life  and  death,  and  though  she  came  round  at 
last,  thanks  to  the  nursing  of  my  sister  and  the 
professional  skill  of  Dr.  John  Easterling,  of 
Stranraer,  she  has  never  to  this  day  entirely  re- 
covered her  former  vigor.  Mordaunt,  too,  suf- 
fered much  for  some  time,  and  it  was  only  after 
our  removal  to  Edinburgh  that  he  rallied  from 
the  shock  which  he  had  undergone.  As  to  poor 
Mrs.  Heatherstone,  neither  medical  attention 
nor  change  of  air  can  ever  have  a  permanent 
effect  upon  her.  Slowly  and  surely,  but  very 
placidly,  she  has  declined  in  health  and  strength, 
until  it  is  evident  that  in  a  very  few  weeks  at  the 
most  she  will  have  rejoined  her  husband  and 
restored  to  him  the  one  thing  which  he  must 
have  grudged  to  leave  behind. 

The    Laird   of   Branksome   came   home  from 


237 

Italy  restored  in  health,  with  the  result  that  w« 
were  compelled  to  return  once  more  to  Edin- 
burgh. The  change  was  agreeable  to  us,  for 
recent  events  had  cast  a  cloud  over  our  country 
life  and  had  surrounded  us  with  unpleasant 
associations.  Besides,  a  highly  honorable  and 
remunerative  appointment  in  connection  with 
the  University  library  had  become  vacant,  and 
had,  through  the  kindness  of  the  late  Sir  Alex- 
ander Grant,  been  offered  to  my  father,  who,  as 
may  be  imagined,  lost  no  time  in  accepting  so 
congenial  a  post.  In  this  way  we  came  back  to 
Edinburgh  very  much  more  important  people 
than  we  left  it,  and  with  no  further  reason  to  be 
uneasy  about  the  details  of  housekeeping.  But, 
in  truth,  the  whole  household  has  been  dissolved, 
for  I  have  been  married  for  some  months  to  my 
dear  Gabriel,  and  Esther  is  to  become  Mrs. 
Heatherstone  upon  the  23rd  of  the  month.  If 
she  makes  him  as  good  a  wife  as  his  sister  has 
made  to  me,  we  may  both  set  ourselves  down  as 
fortunate  men. 

These  mere  domestic  episodes  are,  as  I  have 
already  explained,  introduced  only  because  I  can- 
not avoid  alluding  to  them.  My  object  in  draw- 
ing up  this  statement  and  publishing  the  evidence 
which  corroborates  it,  was  certainly  not  to  parade 


238 

my  private  affairs  before  the  public,  but  to  leave 
on  record  an  authentic  narrative  of  a  most 
remarkable  series  of  events.  This  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  do  in  as  methodical  a  manner  as 
possible,  exaggerating  nothing  and  suppressing 
nothing.  The  reader  has  now  the  evidence 
before  him,  and  can  form  his  own  opinions 
unaided  by  me  as  to  the  causes  of  the  disappear- 
ance and  death  of  Rufus  Smith  and  of  John 
Berthier  Heatherstone,  V.C.,  C.B. 

There  is  only  one  point  which  is  still  dark  to 
me.  Why  the  chelas  of  Ghoolab  Shah  should 
have  removed  their  victims  to  the  desolate  Hole 
of  Cree  instead  of  taking  their  lives  at  Cloomber, 
is,  I  confess,  a  mystery  to  me.  In  dealing  with 
occult  laws,  however,  we  must  allow  for  our  own 
complete  ignorance  of  the  subject.  Did  we 
know  more  we  might  see  that  there  was  some 
analogy  between  that  foul  bog  and  the  sacrilege 
which  had  been  committed,  and  that  their  ritual 
and  customs  demanded  that  just  such  a  death 
was  the  one  appropriate  to  the  crime.  On  this 
point  I  should  be  sorry  to  be  dogmatic,  but  at 
least  we  must  allow  that  the  Buddhist  priests 
must  have  had  some  very  good  cause  for  the 
course  of  action  which  they  so  deliberately 
carried  out. 


239 

Months  afterwards  I  saw  a  short  paragraph  in 
the  Star  of  India  announcing  that  three  eminent 
Buddhists — Lai  Hoomi,  Mowdar  Khan  and  Ram 
Singh — had  just  returned  in  the  steamship  Deccan 
from  a  short  trip  to  Europe.  The  very  next  item 
was  devoted  to  an  account  of  the  life  and  services 
of  Major-General  Heatherstone,  "  who  has  lately 
disappeared  from  his  country  house  in  Wigtown- 
shire, and  who,  there  is  too  much  reason  to  fear, 
has  been  drowned."  I  wonder  if  by  chance  there 
was  any  other  human  eye  but  mine  which  traced 
a  connection  between  these  paragraphs.  I  never 
showed  them  to  my  wife  or  to  Mordaunt,  and 
they  will  only  know  of  their  existence  when  they 
read  these  pages. 

I  don't  know  that  there  is  any  other  point 
which  needs  clearing  up.  The  intelligent  reader 
will  have  already  seen  the  reasons  for  the  gen- 
eral's fear  of  dark  faces,  of  wandering  men  (not 
knowing  how  his  pursuers  might  come  after 
him),  of  visitors  (from  the  same  cause  and  because 
his  hateful  bell  was  liable  to  sound  at  all  times). 
His  broken  sleep  led  him  to  wander  about  the 
house  at  night,  and  the  lamps  which  he  burned 
in  every  room  were  no  doubt  to  prevent  his 
imagination  from  peopling  the  darkness  with 
terrors.  Lastly,  his  elaborate  precautions  were, 


240 

as  he  has  himself  explained,  rather  the  result  of 
a  feverish  desire  to  do  something  than  in  the 
expectation  that  he  could  really  ward  off  his 
fate. 

Science  will  tell  you  that  there  are  no  such 
powers  as  those  claimed  by  the  Eastern  mystics. 
I,  John  Fothergill  West,  can  confidently  answer 
that  science  is  wrong,  and  invite  the  reader's 
attention  to  a  pithy,  if  disrespectful,  aphorism 
of  Baron  Hellenbach.  For  what  is  science? 
Science  is  the  consensus  of  opinion  of  scientific 
men,  and  history  has  shown  that  it  is  slow  to 
accept  a  truth.  Science  sneered  at  Newton  for 
twenty  years.  Science  proved  mathematically 
that  an  iron  ship  could  not  swim,  and  science 
declared  that  a  steamship  could  not  cross  the 
Atlantic.  Like  Goethe's  Mephistopheles,  our 
wise  professor's  forte  is  to  "  stets  verneineny 
Thomas  Didymus  is,  to  use  his  own  jargon,  his 
prototype.  Let  him  learn  that  if  he  will  but 
cease  to  believe  in  the  infallibility  of  his  own 
methods,  and  will  look  to  the  East,  from  which 
all  great  movements  come,  he  will  find  there  a 
school  of  philosophers  and  of  savants  who,  work- 
ing on  different  lines  to  his  own,  are  many 
thousand  years  ahead  of  him  in  all  the  essentials 
of  knowledge. 


241 


THE  OCCULT  PHILOSOPHY. 

ADDENDUM. 
BY  MR.  MORDAUNT  HEATHERSTONE. 

I  HAVE  just  looked  [over  the  proof  sheets  of 
my  good  friend's  account  of  the  events  which 
led  up  to  the  death  of  my  father,  and  I  am  able 
to  endorse  it  on  every  point — save,  indeed  that 
he  lays  too  little  stress  on  the  kindness  and 
devotion  which  he  displayed  himself  through. 
out.  I  have  asked  him,  however,  before  sending 
his  proofs  finally  to  the  press,  to  allow  me  to 
make  this  small  addition  in  order  that  I  may  say 
a  few  words  upon  these  Indian  occults  of  whom 
so  little  is  known.  In  this  appendix  form,  any 
reader  is  at  liberty  to  neglect  it ;  but  should  he 
be  interested  in  the  subject,  I  have  endeavored 
to  collect  a  little  information  for  him. 

The  Eastern  adepts  exist  at  present  principally 
in  the  north  of  India  and  in  Thibet,  though  in 
former  days  it  is  probable  that  their  organiza- 
tion was  much  more  widespread.  Under  the 
various  names  of  the  Egyptian  priests,  Chaldean 


242 

Magi,  Essenes,  Gnostics,  Theurgic  Neo-Pla. 
tonists,  and  Seers,  we  catch  glimpses  of  them 
throughout  history.  They  form  the  closest  and 
most  important  secret  society  which  has  ever 
been  organized — a  society  to  which  any  suitable 
man  may  gain  admission,  but  which  is  girt 
round  with  such  physical  terrors,  so  much 
bodily  privation  and  discipline,  that  few  have 
the  courage  and  hardihood  to  persevere  to  the 
end.  Those  who  are  earnest  and  resolute 
enough  to  attain  full  initiation  have,  however, 
their  full  reward  for  all  that  they  have  gone 
through,  for  they  attain  such  knowledge  and 
such  powers  as  raise  them  far  above  the  ruck 
of  mankind. 

The  knowledge  ot  the  occult  philosophers  is 
both  physical  and  metaphysical,  but  it  is  to  the 
latter  branch,  and  especially  to  the  human  soul 
and  its  destiny,  that  they  have  devoted  most 
attention.  Their  physical  knowledge,  however, 
and  their  power  of  manipulating  those  secret 
1  laws  by  which  Nature  builds  or  destroys,  are 
far  in  excess  of  anything  known  to  European 
science.  It  must  be  remembered  that  our  own 
scientific  results  are  the  results  of  a  few  hundred 
years,  whereas  the  occult  philosophy  has  been 
the  work  of  the  very  cream  of  humanity,  extend- 


243 

ing  over  an  unbroken  period  of  at  least  twenty 
thousand  years,  during  which  time  every  adept 
has  handed  down  his  powers  to  his  initiates 
^exactly  as  they  were  handed  down  to  him,  or 
•  with  such  additions  as  his  life  of  study  has  enabled 
him  to  make.  Wonderful  as  are  the  powers  to 
which  these  men  have  attained,  they  are  the 
first  to  disclaim  any  supernatural  source  for 
them.  They  arise  entirely  from  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  nature  of  things  and  a  deep 
insight  into  the  hidden  forces  which  pervade 
the  universe.  The  whole  race  may  hope  some 
day  to  attain  the  learning  which  they  have 
already  acquired. 

One  of  the  first  lessons  which  the  occult  initiate 
has  to  learn  is  that  wisdom  is  not  to  be  implanted 
in  any  mind  by  the  mere  process  of  study  and  of 
instruction.  The  soil  must  be  prepared  before 
this  most  precious  seed  can  be  committed  to  it. 
The  keenest  and  most  receptive  intellect  which 
is  the  seat  also  of  pride,  of  avarice,  of  sensuality, 
of  selfishness  or  the  love  of  comfort,  can  never 
hope  to  surmo'int  the  first  of  the  ordeals  which 
the  occult  aspirant  has  to  pass.  These  weeds 
must  all  be  thoroughly  and  remorselessly  eradi- 
cated before  the  garden  can  be  planted.  For 
seven  years  the  young  chela  devotes  himself  td 


244 

this  struggle  for  the  mastery  over  himself,  untH, 
if  he  be  successful,  he  finds  himself  pure  in  mind 
and  body,  free  from  gross  animal  instincts, 
indifferent  to  personal  comfort,  and  with  all  the 
spiritual  part  of  his  nature  developed  at  the 
expense  of  the  bestial.  He  is  then  in  a  condition 
to  receive  the  first  teachings  which  will  lead  him 
on  to  the  higher  path.  Many,  of  course,  break 
down  in  this  preliminary  process,  and  are  never 
deemed  worthy  of  the  honor  of  initiation  ;  but 
the  very  essence  of  the  order  is  that  it  should  be 
select.  In  this  way  the  early  training  comes 
from  within,  not  from  without.  To  use  their 
o  wn  expression,  "  an  adept  becomes — he  is  not 
made." 

And  what  are  the  results  obtained  by  this  most 
ancient  and  stringent  school  of  knowledge?  By 
the  very  nature  of  things  we  outsiders  can  only 
have  vague  ideas  of  the  few  which  are  adapted 
to  our  understanding.  The  little  which  we  know 
is  probably  the  mere  fringe  of  the  subject.  Yet 
they  comprise  some  fairly  weighty  adjuncts  to 
our  stock  of  facts. 

In  the  first  place,  they  have  proved  without 
the  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  man  possesses  a  soul 
by  the  simple  expedient  of  separating  it  from 
the  body  and  of  rejoining  them  at  pleasure.  An 


245 

adept  can  put  off  his  body  as  he  would  put  off 
his  greatcoat,  and  can  travel  in  his  soul  with  the 
rapidity  of  thought  to  the  other  end  of  the 
world.  This  endows  him  with  practical  om- 
niscience as  far  as  m undane  affairs  are  concerned. 
Again,  they  have  satisfied  themselves  that  the 
soul  is  itself  a  material  thing,  containing  within 
it  a  far  more  ethereal  essence,  known  as  the 
spirit.  When  Paul  of  Tarsus  says  that  man 
consists  of  a  body,  a  soul  and  a  spirit,  he  is  not 
indulging  in  vain  surmise,  but  is  stating  concisely 
the  conclusions  arrived  at  by  the  occult  school 
to  which  there  is  every  reason  to  think  that  he 
belonged. 

Again,  the  adepts  claim  to  communicate  with 
each  other  by  means  of  thought-transferrence 
and  not  by  words.  The  initiated  can  therefore 
talk  as  easily  at  the  distance  of  a  thousand  miles 
as  if  they  were  in  the  same  room.  Their  desolate 
retreats  and  caves  in  the  Himalayas,  which  seem 
so  lonely  to  the  ignorant,  are  really  foci  of 
mental  activity  and  interchange  of  views.  To 
attract  each  other's  attention  when  they  wish  to 
communicate,  they  have  the  power  of  sounding 
that  bell-like,  tingling  alarm  which  played  so 
prominent  a  part  in  the  case  of  my  poor  father. 

They  assert  again,  and  support  their  assertion 


by  proofs,  that  they  have  such  a  mastery  over 
the  subtle  chemistry  of  Nature  that  they  can 
take  the  elements  from  the  atmosphere  and  com- 
bine them  or  mould  them  into  any  form  they 
please,  so  as  to  make  any  visible  object  by  the 
synthesis  of  invisible  atoms.  They  can  resolve 
a  solid  substance  into  its  most  minute  molecules, 
waft  those  molecules  on  an  occult  current  to  any 
distance,  and  there  unite  them  so  as  to  form  the 
original  object  exactly  as  it  was  before.  In  this 
manner  a  block  of  marble  has  been  conveyed  in 
an  instant  from  Bombay  to  Calcutta,  and  letters 
have  been  sent  with  a  rapidity  which  would 
render  the  telegraph  obsolete. 

These  are  one  or  two  of  the  minor  results 
claimed  by  the  Eastern  philosophers,  and  surely, 
if  they  profess  to  have  attained  nothing  else, 
their  system  deserves  some  attention  from  the 
scientists  of  the  West.  The  adepts  themselves, 
however,  in  discussing  the  question,  dismiss 
these  physical  phenomena  as  puerile  manifesta- 
tions, useful  enough  for  service  in  this  world, 
but  of  no  permanent  or  real  importance.  The 
real  value  of  their  system  lies,  they  declare,  in 
its  metaphysical  or  religious  aspect,  and  there 
they  claim  to  have  cast  a  flood  of  light  upon  the 
destiny  of  the  soul  which  will  change  religion 


247 

from  a  mere  speculation  or  aspiration  to  one  of 
the  exact  science  as  demonstrable  and  as  certain 
as  geometry.  Into  these  higher  regions  of  the 
esoteric  system  none  can  penetrate  save  those 
who  have  already  mastered  the  inferior  grades, 
and  been  chastened  in  mind  and  body. 

Of  course  the  objection  would  at  once  occur 
to  any  Western  reader  that  it  was  cxtremelv 
improbable  that  a  clique  of  men  could  keep 
their  knowledge  to  themselves,  and  that  if  it 
were  possible  it  is  still  reprehensible,  since  such 
knowledge  is  intended  for  the  use  of  the  whole 
human  race.  To  this  the  occultist  replies  that 
the  powers  which  are  acquired  by  his  system 
are  of  such  a  formidable  nature  that  they 
might  be  terribly  abused  if  they  fell  into  the 
wrong  hands.  He  considers,  therefore,  that  the 
human  race  is  not  yet  prepared  for  the  just  exer- 
cise of  these  forces,  and  that  a  great  responsi- 
bility rests  with  his  order  to  test  every  candi- 
date for  initiation  in  the  most  severe  manner, 
and  so  to  insure  that  no  unworthy  man  should 
ever  gain  admission  to  the  brotherhood.  This 
is  the  adept's  reply,  and,  right  or  wrong,  he  in- 
flexibly adheres  to  the  line  of  conduct  which  he 
has  laid  down  for  himself. 

For  the  information  which  I  have  jotted  down 


248 

here  I  am  indebted  partly  to  my  own  reading 
partly  to  what  I  have  heard  from  my  father, 
and  most  of  all  to  Mr.  A.  P.  Sinnett,  for  his  ex- 
cellent  summary  of  the  occult  philosophy. 
("  The  Occult  World."  Trubner  and  Co.,  1883.) 
I  cannot  supplement  my  account  better  than  by 
adding  one  or  two  of  Mr.  Sinnett's  clear  and  for- 
cible statements. 

"  The  whole  edifice  of  occultism,"  he  writes, 
"  from  basement  to  roof,  is  so  utterly  strange  to 
ordinary  conceptions  that  it  is  difficult  to  know 
how  to  begin  an  explanation  of  its  contents. 
How  could  one  describe  a  calculating  machine 
to  an  audience  unfamiliar  with  the  simplest  me- 
chanical contrivances  and  knowing  nothing  of 
arithmetic?  And  the  highly-cultured  classes  of 
modern  Europe  as  regards  the  achievements  of 
occultism  are,  in  spite  of  the  perfection  of  their 
literary  scholarship  and  the  exquisite  precision 
of  their  attainments  in  their  own  departments  of 
science,  in  the  position  as  regards  occultism  of 
knowing  nothing  about  the  A.  B.  C.  of  the  sub- 
ject, nothing  about  the  capacities  of  the  soul  at 
all  as  distinguished  from  the  capacities  of  body 
and  soul  combined.  The  occultists  have  for 
ages  devoted  themselves  to  that  study  chiefly  ; 
they  have  accomplished  results  in  connection 


249 

with  it  whi~h  are  absolutely  bewildering  in  thehr 
magnificence ;  but,  suddenly  introduced  to 
some  of  these,  the  prosaic  intelligence  is  stag- 
gered, and  feels  in  a  world  of  miracle  and  en- 
chantment." 

In  another  part  of  his  interesting  work  Mr 
Sinnett  deals  with  sounds  produced  at  a  distance 
by  adepts  which  correspond  to  those  which 
haunted  my  father  for  so  long.  Of  these  he  has 
had  personal  experience.  "  It  is  never  loud,"  he 
says ;  "  at  least,  I  have  never  heard  it  very  lcs*d  ; 
but  it  is  always  clear  and  distinct  to  a  remark- 
able extent.  If  you  lightly  strike  the  edge  of  a 
thin  claret  glass  with  a  knife  you  may  get  a  sound 
•which  it  would  be  difficult  to  persuade  any  one 
had  come  from  another  room ;  but  the  occult 
bell  sound  is  like  that,  only  purer  and  clearer, 
with  no  subsound  of  jarring  in  it  whatever,  .  . 
The  bell  sounds  are  not  mere  sportive  illustra. 
tions  of  the  properties  of  the  currents  which  are 
set  in  action  to  produce  them.  They  serve  the 
direct  practical  purpose  among  occultists  of  a 
telegraphic  call-bell.  It  appears  that  where 
trained  occultists  are  concerned,  so  that  the 
mysterious  magnetic  connection  which  enables 
them  to  communicate  ideas  is  once  established, 
they  can  produce  the  bell  sounds  at  any  distance 


250 

in  the  neighborhood  of  the  fellow  initiate  whose 
attention  they  wish  to  attract."  From  my 
father's  case  it  seems  that  this  bell  sound  is  used 
not  merely  for  the  purpose  of  communication, 
but  also  to  enable  the  adepts  to  retain  their  hold 
over  any  individual  and  to  inform  them  exactly 
where  he  was  that  they  might  lay  hands  upon 
him  at  any  moment. 

These  few  additional  particulars  may  throw 
some  light  upon  any  obscure  points  in  the  state- 
ment which  has  been  so  concisely  and  truthfully 
drawn  up  by  my  friend  and  brother,  John  Fotlv 
ergill  West. 


THE 


The 


Mistress  of  Bonaventure 

By  HAROLD  BINDLOSS 

Author  of  "Alton  of  Somarco,"  "Cattle  Baron's  Daughter,"  etc. 

IN  the  "  Mistress  of  Bonaventure  "  we  have  a  vivid,  realistic  story 
of  early  settlement  life  in  the  prairie  lands  of  the  Canadian 
North- West,  among  the  ranchers  of  the  region. 

The  story  is  a  delightfully  told  one,  and  full  of  intense  human 
interest,  especially  as  it  is  checkered  by  incidents  connected  with  the 
conditions  of  settlement — the  paying  up  of  the  sums  due  to  the  early 
land  grabbing  companies,  with  their  often  exorbitant  and  usurious 
rates  of  interest  and  other  charges. 

Interest  is  added  to  the  novel  by  the  lifelike  account  given  of  the 
hardships  of  early  settlement  in  the  region  by  the  characters  who 
entertainingly  figure  in  the  tale  and  by  the  romantic  incidents  which 
happen  in  the  elegant  surroundings  of  Bonaventure  Ranch,  with  its 
sweet,  gracious  mistress  of  the  home :  as  well  as  by  the  plucky  fight 
which  young  Rancher  Ormesby  takes  up  against  the  leech  money- 
lender and  land-agent  Cane. 

Realistic  are  those  portions  of  the  novel  in  which  the  author 
sketches  aspects  of  life  among  the  ranching  community,  as  well  as  the 
country  itself ;  while  delightful  are  the  glimpses  the  reader  gets  of  the 
sweet  heroine  of  the  story,  Lucille  Haldane  and  her  gentle,  hospitable 
father,  and  engrossing  the  chapters  that  deal  with  Rancher  Ormes- 
by *s  tender  regard  for  the  lovable  Mistress  of  Bonaventure  and  his 
final  suit  for  her  hand. 

12mo,  Cloth,  Gilt  Top  Price  $1.00  Net 


&£ew  Fiction 


The  Serf 

A  tale  of  the  times  of  King  Stephen 
By  GUY   THORNE 

Author  of  "  When  it  was  Dark  " 


THE  action  of  the  story  takes  place  in  the  early  mediaeval  ages, 
the  actual  date  being  about  1  1  36,  that  period  of  anarchy  and 
wickedness  which  has  had  no  parallel   in   English   history. 
From  the  first  page  to  the  last  the  action  of  the  story  rushes  on  with 
an  impetuosity  and  force  which  will  carry  the  reader  with  it  to  the 
last  words.     How  the  poor  serfs  rose  in  their  misery  and  avenged 
themselves  upon  their  tyrant,  how  they  fled  through  the  great  Hilgay 
fen,  and  how  the  final  tragedy  was  enacted  on  the  top  of  the  Out- 
fangthef  Tower  at  sunset,  will  interest  every  reader,  old  and  young 
alike. 

"The  Serf"  contains  perhaps  the  most  powerful  and  amazing 
picture  of  days  long  past  that  the  English  reading  public  has  been 
privileged  to  peruse  since  the  publication  of  "  The  Cloister  and  the 
Hearth."  It  is  a  remarkable  book  and  one  that  should  be  widely 
read. — Cleveland  Plain-Dealer. 

It  is  the  blackest  period  in  English  history  following  the  Norman 
Conquest,  a  period  when  the  great  nobles  did  what  was  right  in 
their  own  eyes,  when  the  crown  was  without  authority  and  when  the 
barons  fought  each  other  and  plundered  the  common  people  just  as 
they  saw  fit. — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

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Nen>  Fiction 


SINLESS 


A 
By  MAUD  H.  YARDLEY 


A  LADY  of  great  loveliness  descended  the  broad  staircase  of 
the  Victoria  Hotel  and,  against  the  advice  of  the  porter, 
walked  forth  into  the  fog.  This  was  in  the  second  chap- 
ter. We  had  no  trouble  in  making  her  out  to  be  Mrs.  Boyd.  There 
is  excellent  description  of  how  she  got  lost  in  the  fog;  of  how  she  was 
rescued  by  a  gallant  wayfarer  who  smoked  and  had  matches;  of  how 
she  got  to  Charing  Cross  Station  somewhat  late;  of  how  Boyd  found 
her  standing  by  the  bookstall  just  as  had  been  arranged  ;  how  they 
went  together  to  the  Victoria  Hotel,  where  the  lady  had  already 
secured  a  delightful  apartment;  how  they  dined  tete-a-tete;  how 
happy  they  were  for  the  rest  of  the  evening  ;  how  the  porter  after 
breakfast  next  morning  appeared  to  be  surprised  on  hearing  that 
Boyd's  name  was  Boyd,  and  how  the  lady  was  more  astonished  than 
the  porter,  since  she  had  supposed  that  his  name  was  Forbes. 

Now,  all  this  is  and  was  most  incredible  ;  but  we  had  no  notion 
that  it  was  until  after  the  appearance  of  the  porter.  It  is  to  be  said 
for  Maud  H.  Yardley  that  she  manages  her  revelations  very  skil- 
fully. It  is  also  to  be  said  for  her  that  she  is  at  once  ingenious  and 
discreet  in  her  provision  and  treatment  of  what  follows  in  the  story. 
She  relates  further  complications  and  difficulties  with  entire  under- 
standing of  what  is  dramatic  and  interesting,  and  at  the  same  time 
delicately. 

Boyd  was  a  thoroughly  good  fellow.  Mrs.  Forbes  was  just  as 
lovely  as  she  seemed  when  she  came  down  the  Victoria  Hotel  stair- 
case. Maud  H.  Yardley  conceived  a  sufficiently  startling  plot,  but 
she  is  a  good  story  teller.  —  New  York  Sun. 

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The  Counterstroke 

By  AMBROSE  PRATT 

Author  of  "Franks:  Duellist" 


T""\LOT  and  counterplot  abound  in  this  powerfully  written  and  enthralling  story. 

I— ^  which  deals  with  Nihilism  and  its  fiendish  machinations,  happily  varied  by 
the  "  counterstrokes  "  throughout  aimed  at  in  the  novel,  in  the  interest  of 
humanity,  and  by  a  finale  tragic  in  its  consequences  to  the  arch-prime-mover 
and  general-in-chief  of  the  malign  order.  The  novel  is  a  strong,  dramatic* 

ally  conceived  and  thrillingly  worked  out  one. 

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Another  Zenda  or  Graustark  Story 


The  Knight  of  the  Silver  Star 

By  PERCY  BREBNER 

Author  of  "  Princeis  Maritza  " 

A  story  of  love  in  an  isolated  kingdom. 

The  Princess  is  wonderfully  beautiful : 

the  hero  marvellously  strong  and  valiant ; 

the  numerous  perils  they  encounter,  exciting  and  varied ; 

the  plot  is  well  put  together  ; 

the  story  is  a  thoroughly  good  one. 

1 2mo,  Cloth,  cat  Top  Price  $  1 .00  Net 


Jl  New  Story  by  General  Charles  King 


Captured 


i  The  Story  of  Sandy  Ray 

By 

General  Charles  King 


One  of  his  best. — Boston  Journal. 

Another  rattling  good  war  story. — ttttsburg  'Press. 

There  are  many  new  phases  of  army  life  that  make  it,  perhaps,  the 
most  interesting  of  any  of  his. — Boston  transcript. 

No  other  writer  of  army  stories  ever  presents  the  convincing  views 
of  military  life  that  flow  so  readily  from  the  pen  of  this  enormously 
popular  author. — Philadelphia  Telegraph. 

The  atmosphere,  the  characters,  and  the  constructive  quality  in  the 
plot  are  up  to  the  popular  writer's  usual  good  standard  and  all  com- 
bine to  make  a  thoroughly  readable  story. — Chicago  Daily  News. 

In  "  Captured,"  Gen.  King  tells  a  story  of  our  army  in  the  Phil- 
ippines— a  scene  which  permits  the  employment  of  many  picturesque 
expedients  and  the  introduction  of  many  lively  persons,  including 
savages,  smugglers,  scoundrelly  white  adventurers  and  army  heroes  of 
the  Sidney  stripe.  Some  of  the  characters  of  former  novels  reappear 
to  advantage  herein.  The  comic  element  is  provided  by  a  pompous 
martinet  officer,  who  strives  to  force  upon  his  disgusted  American 
subordinates  alien  military  customs  and  restrictions.  General  King 
always  manages  to  sprinkle  his  novels  with  episodes  of  terror  and 
suspense,  and  in  this  book,  as  in  its  predecessors,  he  is  at  no  loss  for 
fresh  and  vivid  material. — New  York  Tribune. 

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9999999999999999999999 

The  Spotter 


Jl  Story  of  the  Early  'Days  in 
the  Pennsylvania  Oil  Fields  . . 

By 
W.  W.  CANFIELD 


PVUNCAN  CAMERON  is  a  Pennsylvania  farmer. 
••— ^  the  owner  of  a  large  tract  of  land  which  the  proto- 
type of  the  Standard  Oil  Company  desires  to  secure. 
Cameron  for  a  long  time  successfully  resists  the  efforts  to 
compel  him  to  sell,  and  The  Spotter  describes  what  hap- 
pened to  him,  as  well  as  what  befell  members  of  several 
families  who  are  made  wealthy  by  the  sale  of  their  oil 
lands.  Those  who  oppose  the  advance  of  the  monopoly 
feel  its  hand  in  no  uncertain  weight,  for  there  is  little  hesi- 
tancy in  the  methods  adopted  to  break  the  fortunes  and 
prospects  of  those  who  do  not  quietly  submit. 

The  story  describes  the  romantic  side  of  the  influx  of  a 
large  number  of  speculators,  operators  and  boomers,  who 
find  a  country  that  heretofore  has  been  almost  isolated. 

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